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EDITORIAL ROOM OF THE NEW YORK TRIBUNE 

The city desk, copy desk, and staff of reporters are located in the center, with the managing editor, editorial 
writers, and special writers around the outside. (Courtesy of Lockwood, Greene & Co., engineers) 






















ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 


BY 


H. F. HARRINGTON 

* t 


/ 


DIRECTOR OF THE MEDILL SCHOOL OF JOURNALISM OF 
NORTHWESTERN UNIVERSITY 

AND 

T.^T. FRANKENBERG 

FORMERLY OF THE STAFF OHIO STATE JOURNAL 



WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY ROBERT R. McCORMICK 
CO-EDITOR OF THE CHICAGO TRIBUNE 


REVISED EDITION 


J 



.. 3 

GINN AND COMPANY 

BOSTON • NEW YORK • CHICAGO • LONDON 
ATLANTA • DALLAS • COLUMBUS • SAN FRANCISCO 













COPYRIGHT, 1912, 1924, BY H. F. HARRINGTON AND T. T. FRANKENBERG 

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED 


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gtftcngum jSreag 

GINN AND COMPANY • PRO¬ 
PRIETORS • BOSTON • U.S.A. 

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That which is most essential in journalism is not a knowledge of history. 
Not a knowledge of men. Not the ability to catch a point quickly, nor the 
art of presenting facts properly, nor the skill to display the news appeal¬ 
ingly in the headlines. 

It is the love, the worship of truth. 

The journalist has but one ancestor — Diogenes. 

And, like Diogenes, he goes everywhere, with his lantern in his hand, 
searching for the truth. 

Sometimes he finds it and makes it bloom. This is his honor, his life. 
Sometimes he thinks he has found it, but discovers he has been mistaken. 
This means the work must be started over again. 

The most important attribute of a journalist is good faith. Men or 
women of bad faith are unworthy to be journalists. 

Stephane Lauzanne, Editor of Le Matin, Paris 


v 








. 

* 







. 


















































































































































































PREFACE TO THE NEW EDITION 


It was with some fear and trembling that this book was first 
offered to the reading public some years ago. The authors be¬ 
lieved that the time had arrived for a systematic discussion of 
news writing and editing to the end that hundreds of ambitious 
young folk seeking professional training in colleges and univer¬ 
sities might have some familiarity with journalistic practices be¬ 
fore entering upon their work. While the book was written 
primarily as a guide to students enrolled in college courses in 
journalism, which were then winning their right to be considered 
important offerings in university catalogues, it was hoped that 
active practitioners might also find in it a field of profitable study. 
That hope has been justified. 

In offering this new edition the authors have seized the oppor¬ 
tunity to make a thorough revision of the text, amplifying many 
matters in the light of present-day developments, and adding 
numerous exhibits, illustrations, examples, and exercises. Many 
chapters have profited by the critical examination given them by 
friends in newspaper offices and college classrooms. 

Special thanks are due Mr. George C. Bastian, of the copy desk 
of the Chicago Tribune and instructor in news editing in the 
Medill School of Journalism of Northwestern University, for 
many invaluable suggestions and words of counsel looking toward 
the improvement of the book. In association with Mr. Harvey 
Deuell, of the Tribune, he supplied a large part of the text relat¬ 
ing to the handling of a fire by a morning newspaper. Nor is 
the cooperation extended by Mr. James O’Donnell Bennett, staff 
writer, and William Wisner, chief of the art department, both 
of the Chicago Tribune, to pass without warm acknowledgment. 
Assistance has also been freely given by Mr. Walter A. Washburne, 
city editor of the Chicago Evening Post, and by Mr. George P. 
Stone, of the rewrite desk of the Chicago Daily News, who 
cooperate in teaching the course in reporting at the Medill School 

vii 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 


viii 

of Journalism. They have given particular aid in following the 
progress of a news story from copy to print. 

Grateful acknowledgment is due to Mr. Wright A. Patterson, 
editor in chief of the Western Newspaper Union, for his kindness 
in checking the chapter on "Community Journalism.” Mr. Earl 
T. Martin of the Newspaper Enterprise Association has given as¬ 
sistance by furnishing facts on his association. Cuts of tite Detroit 
News were furnished by Mr. Lee A. White, editorial secretary of 
that paper. Details concerning the press associations were kindly 
verified by members of the staffs of the Associated Press, the 
United Press, and the International News Service. The Mergen- 
thaler Linotype Company furnished several cuts and information 
about the machinery of the Mergenthaler linotype. The Lanston 
Monotype Company also furnished cuts of its machinery. 

Associates of Mr. Harrington in the Medill School of Journal¬ 
ism—namely, Mr. Frank B. Thayer, Mr. Baker Brownell, Mr. 
Samuel A. Bartels—have given ungrudging service in the final 
drafting of the book in its new form. Miss Coralie V. Schaefer, 
secretary of the school, has likewise been of great help in preparing 
the volume for publication. 

The authors no longer consider it necessary to justify college 
preparation for newspaper work. Every other great profession 
that acknowledges stewardship to the public has a specialized 
school which has come to be accepted as a necessary stepping- 
stone to the practice of a calling; journalism has its school of 
preparation, offering a training just as essential, if not more so, 
as that exacted by other professions. As a curriculum of study, 
news writing and allied courses have earned recognition in col¬ 
lege and local room and will continue to do so as the years go on. 

H. F. HARRINGTON 
T. T. FRANKENBERG 


TO THE COMING EDITORS AND REPORTERS 


The soul of newspaper work is service, not alone public service 
that is wide and inspiriting, but personal service as well that im¬ 
poses many obligations and makes many a heavy draft on your 
time, your patience, your tact, and, upon occasions, your courage 
and your loyalty to yourself and your community and country. 

But newspaper service is not a kind of martyrdom. It is a serv¬ 
ice that is well requited. The man or woman with the necessary 
natural equipment and the cultural foundation can look forward 
to a life of usefulness, of honor, of entrancing color. 

Every profession has its standards, and the newspaper profes¬ 
sion is not an exception. Let no man think he can be a successful 
newspaper charlatan. There are such people. We do not deny it. 
But their success, though it glitters for a while, is neither sound nor 
lasting. It is ephemeral, and the end of such men, as disaster after 
disaster in the annals of journalism proves, is ignominious. The 
man of unsound heart cannot day in and day out bare his unsound¬ 
ness to the public eye without detection. We, too, stand in the 
glare of a publicity that is pitiless. No newspaperman can be a 
good newspaperman without something good in his heart—some¬ 
thing good, and big. 

The great power of saying what you mean is the end every 
newspaperman must strive for, and his motto might well be 
that proud line of the divine poet, who transmuted words into 
crystal and who said that he never let words make him say what 
he didn’t want to say. 

This ability should be combined with accuracy, for upon ac¬ 
curacy are founded and from accuracy spring all the resplendent 
virtues of our craft and all the benefactions it can perform. You 
can have a military despotism, or an absolute monarchy, or an 
aristocracy, and they can function of and from themselves; but you 
cannot have a democracy without a free, a fearless, and a trust¬ 
worthy press. 

ROBERT R. McCORMICK, Co-editor of the Chicago Tribune 


IX 







































































































































CONTENTS 


CHAPTER PAGE 

I. JOURNALISM’S WIDE DOMAIN. i 

II. NEWS INTEREST.21 

III. THE WRITER AND HIS READERS.29 

IV. GATHERING THE FACTS.64 

V. THE STRUCTURE OF A NEWS STORY.97 

VI. TYPES OF NEWS STORIES.145 

VII. THE FUNCTIONS OF THE NEWS STAFF.220 

VIII. DISPLAYING THE NEWS.252 

IX. EDITORIALS AND REVIEWS.263 

X. PRINTING, ADVERTISING, CIRCULATION.293 

XI. THE COMMUNITY NEWSPAPER AND ITS PROBLEMS . 320 

APPENDIXES 

A. DICTIONARY OF WORDS AND PHRASES COMMON TO 

NEWSPAPERS. 335 

B. NEWSPAPER STYLE SHEET. 345 

INDEX.351 

EXHIBITS OF NEWSPAPER PAGES .... Following Index 


XI 
























































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ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 


CHAPTER I 

JOURNALISM’S WIDE DOMAIN 

§1 

THE DAILY NEWSPAPER 

The story of journalism. It is a long journey from the little 
back room of John Campbell, New England postmaster, who in 
April, 1704, issued to a sparse reading public Volume I, Number 1, 
of America’s first successful newspaper, The Boston News-Letter , 
to that highly specialized manufacturing establishment, the news¬ 
paper plant of today, equipped with every device and facility to 
send millions of printed sheets into the far corners of the communi¬ 
ties they serve. 

Within these far-flung boundaries is to be found the fascinating 
story of American journalism. As an institution it first found ex¬ 
pression in a colorless, cautious imitation of an English periodical. 
Gradually it sloughed off governmental censorship and developed 
self-reliance and national consciousness, winning, in the trial of 
John Peter Zenger, its right of untrammeled speech. In the years 
that followed, it was transformed into a vehicle for dissemination of 
political propaganda. Then broke the Civil War, and the gathering 
and printing of live news, not views, became the chief business of 
an enterprising newspaper, in addition to its use as an advertising 
medium. The Spanish-American War and the World War like¬ 
wise enlarged the circle of readers and brought wide populariza¬ 
tion of banner headlines, news pictures, and late bulletins. Today 
the American newspaper as an institution has emerged into a great 
engine of public service, fashioned by many minds, combining 
many functions, and addressed to many sorts of people. 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 


The newspaper’s scope and appeal. From a luxury enjoyed by 
a cultured few this newspaper of larger outlook has now become 
a household necessity which may be bought for a few cents. "Not 
one man in ten reads books, but every one of us except the very 
helpless poor satiates himself every day with the newspaper. It 
is parent, school, theater, pulpit, example, counselor, all in one. 


15 , <& tl 

The Bofton News-Letter. 


^ubUfyea bp Slutbojitp. 

From April 17. to QfJonOa? April 24. 1704. 


' London Flying-Pejl from Dtcemb. % d. to 4 tb. 1709. 

L Etters from Scotland bring us the Copy of 
a Sheer lately Printed there, Intituled, A I 
feafonablt Alarm for Scotland. In a Letter 
r from a, Gentleman in the City, to bis Friend in • 
the Country , concerning the prefent Danger 
Of the Kingdom and of the Protejlant Religion. 

This Letter tales Notice, That Papifts fwarm in 
that Nation, that they traffiek more avowedly than 
formerly, and that of late many Scores of Priefts & 
Jefuites arc come ihithcr from France, and gone to 
the North, to the Highlands & other places of the 
Country. That the Minifters of the Highlands and 
North gave in lar^e Lifts of them to the Commit¬ 
tee of the General Affembly, to be laid before the 
PrivyCoundl. 


From all this he infers, That they have hopes of 
Afllftancc from France , otherwife they would never 
be fo impudent, and he gives Reafons for his Ap* 
prehenuons that the French King may fend Troops 
thither this Winter, 1. Becaufethe Englijk fo Dutch 
^“1 not then be at Sea to oppofe them. a. He can 
then belt fpare them, the Seafon of A&ion beyond 
Sea being over. 5. TheExpe&ation given him of a. 
confiderable number to joyn.them, may iurourage 
him to the undertaking with fewer Men,if he cart 
but fend over a (ufficient number of Officers with 
Arms and Ammunition. 

He endeavours in the reft of his Letters to an* 
fwer the fooliffi Pretences of the Pretender s being 
a Protcftant and that he will govern us according 
to Law. He (ays, that being bred up in the Reli¬ 
gion and Politicks of France, he is by Education a 


EARLIEST SUCCESSFUL NEWSPAPER IN AMERICA 


Benjamin Harris has sometimes been called the father of the American newspaper. 
His paper ,Publick Occurrances,was issued from a Boston coffeehouse September 25, 
1690, but was promptly suppressed because of certain "reflexions” distasteful to 
the governor of Massachusetts; it did not appear again. The honor of being the 
first American vender of news belongs to John Campbell, postmaster of Boston, 
who, on April 24, 1704, brought out the News-Letter. The paper was regularly 
published for fifteen years, without competition, and reached a circulation of 
three hundred copies. Thirty newspapers were printed in the colonies at the 
outbreak of the Revolution 


Every drop of our blood is colored by it,” pertinently remarked 
Dr. Henry Ward Beecher a generation ago; but even he could not 
anticipate the amazing popularity and influence of the present- 
day journal. 

Recent figures given out by the census bureau show that the 2433 
daily newspapers in the United States disseminate 32,735,937 
copies a day, enough to supply information to a third of the popu¬ 
lation. The sales for these newspapers average $200,000,000 an- 





JOURNALISM’S WIDE DOMAIN 


3 


nually, while revenue received from advertisers easily doubles that 
amount. The circulation of the Sunday newspapers, numbering six 
hundred, is almost 20 , 000,000 copies weekly, an enormous figure 
when it is remembered that Sunday papers constitute only a fourth 
of the total number of daily papers. 

Dynamic personal forces. In chronicling the phenomenal growth 
and changing perspectives of the American newspaper, due credit 
should be given the editors who have contributed to its making. 
Many are nameless (witness the anonymous correspondents who, 
through their resolute pens, helped bring the colonies into a strong 
bond of union), but many others are sufficiently well known to 
deserve niches in the journalistic hall of fame. In that group are 
Benjamin Franklin, farsighted statesman and patriot (the greatest 
of the colonial editors), who fought for freedom and democracy; 
Samuel Adams, who, through the Boston Gazette, aroused his 
countrymen to the sense of their wrongs and helped build the bon¬ 
fire of the American Revolution; Alexander Hamilton, who had a 
large share in crystallizing national ideals through the papers pub¬ 
lished in the Federalist ; James Gordon Bennett, founder of the 
New York Herald, who emancipated the newspaper from political 
party control and established the revolutionary principle that what 
the people most wanted was news; Horace Greeley, whose New 
York Tribune was the high priest and the prophet of the Repub¬ 
lican party; Henry J. Raymond, who helped establish the reputa¬ 
tion of the New York Times as one of the greatest of American 
newspapers; Samuel Bowles, who made the Springfield (Massa¬ 
chusetts) Republican a sane, influential organ of opinion; Joseph B. 
MacCullough, who, save perhaps for George D. Prentice, was the 
pioneer newspaper paragrapher and who made the St. Louis Globe- 
Democrat the greatest special telegraph paper in this country; 
Henry W. Grady, who made the Atlanta Constitution famous; 
Edwin Cowles, under whose management the Cleveland Leader 
was a really great and profitable newspaper; George W. Childs, who 
founded the Philadelphia Public Ledger ; Charles A. Dana, who 
made the New York Sun read as if all the departments were writ¬ 
ten by one superbly brilliant pen; Joseph Medill, who raised the 
great Chicago Tribune to wealth and power; Field Marshal Hal¬ 
stead, who brought the Cincinnati Commercial and later the Com- 


4 ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 

mercial Gazette into fame; Joseph Pulitzer, who, through the edi¬ 
torial page of the New York World, pledged his paper to serve 
and battle for the people with earnest sincerity”; Marse Henry 
Watterson, whose vigorous, scintillating editorials were the bright 
particular illumination of the Louisville Courier-Journal ; William 
Rockhill Nelson, a sagacious and public-spirited crusader who 
regarded his paper, the Kansas City Star, as "the prosecuting at¬ 
torney for the people”; and William Randolph Hearst, publisher 
of the New York Journal, New York Evening American, and other 
newspapers in various parts of the country, who has been success¬ 
ful in popularizing the newspaper among the masses and the for¬ 
eign population, and in developing novel and daring methods to 
advertise the news. 

Each of these, men personally made the newspaper with which 
his name is identified—not that he wrote all the matter, but in 
the sense that his personality pervaded each department. 

The newspaper of today is a highly organized mechanism for 
collecting news and commenting upon it. Telegraph, cable, wire¬ 
less, and radio, with an army of special correspondents, keep each 
office in touch with all the world. Editorial platitudes yield to 
reality, for this is preeminently an epoch of information rather 
than of opinion. Just here are revealed in sharp contrast the distin¬ 
guishing characteristics of the varying national types of the press. 

Comparative national types. A keen observer and student of 
the wide domain of comparative journalism thus focalizes his 
conclusions: 

America has newspapers and newspaper men. England and the Conti¬ 
nent boast of journals and journalists. It is a distinction with a difference. 
It is a fair assertion, often made, that the American newspaper utilizes to 
the fullest extent every resource supplied by science for the quick trans¬ 
mission of intelligence. The European newspaper, speaking broadly, does 
not. Judged, then, by its own first standard of professional duty, the Amer¬ 
ican newspaper as a news medium is a century in advance of the European 
and all other rivals. 

The French journalist aims in the main to electrify and to entertain his 
readers, the English journalist seeks almost solely to instruct, the American 
newspaper man aspires to do both. The volatile French press is often frivo¬ 
lous, the heavy English press often stupid, the typical American sometimes 
both—more frequently neither. To the Anglomaniac criticism that the 


JOURNALISM’S WIDE DOMAIN 


5 


English press is puri-exemplified and that the press of America is low, vul¬ 
gar and corrupt, Richard Watson Gilder made the conclusive reply: "The 
Americans are the decentest people on the face of the earth.” The repre¬ 
sentative press of such a people cannot be corrupt. 

Contributing elements in its evolution. Mighty as have been the 
personalities of the past in revolutionizing newspaper methods and 
materials, the new era in journalism would not have been possible 
without the agency of mechanical invention. Up to the year 1832 
newspapers were printed on hand presses, which limited circula¬ 
tion to the hundreds and made swift publication of news almost 
impossible. When in later years steam power was applied to the 
press, circulation grew by leaps and bounds. There were still in¬ 
numerable handicaps, however, many of which were overcome 
when Richard Hoe showed how type could be placed on a re¬ 
volving cylinder and paper fed into a press running at lightning 
speed. Again the circulation multiplied by thousands, but even 
this improved form of press could not satisfy the demands made 
by impatient readers in times of great national crises. The ex¬ 
panse of railroads and growth of cities increased the calls upon 
the newspapers and opened fresh territory for their exploitation. 
Under pressure of these new conditions, mechanical experts devel¬ 
oped the stereotyping process, by which pages of type may be 
duplicated in curved metal plates. By attaching these to a battery 
of fast presses the circulation of half a million, even a million 
copies was made possible. Modern newspapers are printed on 
presses marvelously transformed from the style developed a gen¬ 
eration ago. The utilization of wood pulp for paper stock, fed 
into the presses from huge revolving spools, has also made possible 
the gigantic circulations of today. 

The evolution in printing-machinery is no less marked in the 
composing-room. Formerly type had to be set by hand by tedious 
process; late in the century came the linotype. Today every large 
newspaper office owns a battery of these ingenious machines. 

The revolution which has taken place in news-gathering is 
scarcely less noteworthy. The coming of the telegraph and the 
extension of railroads drove out the slow stagecoach and pony 
express and made the prompt recording of news possible. Modern 
journalism turns a telescopic eye upon every hamlet, village, town, 


6 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 


and city in America and on foreign countries; it is ready to spare 
no expense to dispatch correspondents and trained specialists to 
every troubled news area. The newspaper has become an institu¬ 


tion that daily brings together 



BENJAMIN FRANKLIN (1706-1790) 

Benjamin Franklin was richly en¬ 
dowed with common sense, an in¬ 
vigorating literary style, and piquant 
humor, coupled with a widely diver¬ 
sified interest in the life of his times. 
As an editor-statesman he won a 
devoted following; he was the ar¬ 
dent champion of many good causes. 
As conductor of the Pennsylvania 
Gazette, Franklin made the printed 
word a thing of power and enlight¬ 
enment throughout the colonies 

what it wants. A newspaper 
out sacrificing its integrity c 
legitimate purveyor of news. 


happenings from the four quarters 
of the earth, conveying informa¬ 
tion, entertaining, and educating 
the people. 

Giving the public what it wants. 
In this revolution the newspaper, 
however, has changed from an or¬ 
gan of opinion to a great competi¬ 
tive enterprise, robbed of much of 
its old-time editorial vigor. Fi¬ 
nancial success, as determined by 
large circulation and increasing 
volume of advertising, marks its 
goal. Instead of the dominating 
individuality in the regime of 
other-day intellectual giants, the 
modern newspaper substitutes 
business organization, composite 
ownership, and an impersonal at¬ 
titude, somewhat less responsive 
to criticism. On the one hand, a 
strong bid is made for advertising 
patronage, an item which furnishes 
the revenue that makes possible 
a daily newspaper sold for a few 
pennies; on the other, there is a 
determined effort to please the 
majority of the paper’s readers, 
in other words, to give the public 
may cater to these two factors with- 
>r proving false to its mission as a 


It should never be forgotten that if a newspaper is to serve 
its public acceptably, it must be absolutely businesslike, self- 
sustaining, financially and politically independent. The dependent 




JOURNALISM’S WIDE DOMAIN 



newspaper, frequently pressed for revenue, is logically the one 
that is most open to corruption by politicians and advertisers. 

As to news policy, the newspaper 
of today simply accepts man as he 
is and chronicles him accordingly. 

It is not concerned, except in its 
editorial columns, with what he 
should be or with what he has 
been, but with what he is today— 
and with what he is doing today. 

It takes the stand that it does not 
make events, but merely chronicles 
them. Its news columns it regards 
as the day-to-day history of the 
race, a sort of minute book of 
progress and civilization, and it 
strives to make the record as accu¬ 
rate and as entertaining as it can 
in the short space of time neces¬ 
sarily allotted to making a daily 
newspaper. 

So-called scandal stories, various 
types of "exposures,” all kinds of 
news, are weighed by the news¬ 
paperman according to this stand¬ 
ard. He reasons that if no divorce 
bill had been filed, no trial held, 
there would be no divorce story; 
that the newspaper is merely mod¬ 
ern society’s secretary, writing up 
the minutes of the day, and to 
omit such stories—if they are true 
and by right belong to the public 
—would be to fail in the duty of 
making these minutes complete. 

To back up this argument the practical newspaperman finds that 
his newspaper, containing these minutes, sells in proportion as the 
minutes are thorough, detailed, and impartial; that while a minor- 


JAMES GORDON BENNETT, SR. 

( 1795 - 1872 ) 

James Gordon Bennett, the elder, 
came to this country from Scotland 
in 1819 and entered the tourney of 
journalistic wits in the brave,swash¬ 
buckling days. He was "one man 
in a cellar against the world.” Be¬ 
sides fighting the world, he did all 
the work on his New York Herald. 
He collected the news, wrote the 
entire paper, kept the books, and 
collected the bills. Bennett has been 
called the greatest news man this 
country has produced. News was 
the very fiber of his being. He was 
knocked down, and he made it 
news; he was horsewhipped, and he 
made it news. With him, everything 
public and private was news 





8 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 


ity protests in horror at the grisly details, a huge majority raises 
no voice whatever, except possibly when the minutes are incom¬ 
plete. Then the sales drop. His natural conclusion is that he is 

pleasing the public, a requisite of 
commercial success, and that it 
is time enough to change when 
the majority demands a change. 
His paper is as good as the public 
wishes, he concludes, and if he 
moves upward any faster than 
that public desires, he will be¬ 
come dull and lose out. 

Censorship of news is danger¬ 
ous, because censorship of one 
type of news leads easily to cen¬ 
sorship of another, and soon the 
newspaper is stultified, lopsided, 
inadequate to the times. It ceases 
to be an accurate historian and a 
servant of all the people. Today’s 
scandal may hurt a minority, but 
it is the basis of tomorrow’s re¬ 
form, and at the same time brings 
down a punishment on the guilty 
that they dread even more than 
a court sentence. 

" All the news that’s fit to print.” 
The conservative journal, con¬ 
trasted with its youthful, excited 
contemporary of flaring headlines 
and highly spiced contents, has 
adopted a news policy which pre¬ 
sents the facts in a straightfor¬ 
ward, unbiased fashion, without 
an attempt to catch subscribers by illegitimate methods or to flat¬ 
ter the whims of readers. The conservative newspaper, while 
perhaps not as typical of American life as of English, has a real 
and respected place in almost every large or small city. 



HORACE GREELEY (1811-1872) 

Horace Greeley is the " Greatheart ” 
of American journalism. A vigorous 
political propagandist, he was im¬ 
bued with moral earnestness and en¬ 
dowed with a quick perception of the 
significance of events. His passion 
for political righteousness, his in¬ 
fluence in the nomination of Abra¬ 
ham Lincoln, the editorial thunder 
of his New York Tribune through 
the American crisis, and his final de¬ 
feat for the presidency give him a 
unique place in history. It is said no 
newspaperman has been so influen¬ 
tial in public life as Horace Greeley 







JOURNALISM’S WIDE DOMAIN 


9 



On the twenty-fifth anniversary of his association with the 
New York Times , as its general manager, Adolph S. Ochs took 
occasion to give "an account of his stewardship to those who 
have made the New York Times 
of today possible—its readers .” 1 
He writes: 

We have made the attempt to make 
the New York Times a creditable hu¬ 
man institution. To what extent we 
have succeeded we are confident we 
can leave to others to say; whether 
this effort has contributed to the gen¬ 
eral welfare and to gaining respect for 
the honesty, integrity and patriotism 
of American newspapers. 

I am pleased to say that the New 
York Times is firmly established as an 
independent conservative newspaper, 
free from any influence that can direct 
or divert its management from a right¬ 
eous and public-spirited course. It is 
within itself financially independent 
and in the enjoyment of a large and 
increasingly profitable legitimate in¬ 
come from circulation receipts and ad¬ 
vertising revenue. . . . Persons may 
disagree with the New York Times — 
with its treatment of news and its 
views thereon—but there is no ground 
on which they may attribute to it base 
or improper motives for such differ¬ 
ences of opinion. The New York 
Times is an open book, and it may 
be taken at its face value; it is no 
worse than it may seem to appear; its 

faults are those of human fallibility, and we cherish the knowledge that 
at least in purpose it is better than we have been able to make it appear. 

Newspapers, then, reflect prevailing taste and the popular mind. 
An ideal newspaper is possible only in an ideal society. As it is 

i Introduction, History of the New York Times, 1851-1921, by Elmer Davis, of the 
New York Times editorial staff. 


CHARLES A. DANA (1819-1897) 

Charles A. Dana was the scholar of 
journalism. He talked seven lan¬ 
guages, read twelve, and had a bound¬ 
less greed for information. His 
masterly English possessed a mel¬ 
low, human touch that was speedily 
borrowed by the " bright young men ” 
of his staff. Under his direction the 
New York Sun became a light in the 
literary world. Charles A. Dana left 
an impression on his time that can 
only be compared with that made 
by Addison and Steele on the early 
eighteenth-century essayists 







10 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 

today, every man may choose the newspaper that represents the 
things he most admires. Each type—conservative, "yellow,” sen¬ 
sational—embodies well-defined policies in the selection and treat¬ 
ment of news, determined by the public each seeks to reach. 

Slow as is the growth of public sentiment, the trend of the times 
is unmistakably toward better things. There is no longer appall¬ 
ing danger from the yellow peril of jingoistic journalism. The 
menace of the evil is proving its own surest remedy. The news¬ 
paper is beginning to respond to the demand of enlightened readers 
who have learned the habit of weighing evidence. If this same 
intelligent public expresses a continued and growing disapproval 
of stories concerned with murders, prize fights, and underworld 
episodes, thrust upon its attention in exaggerated headlines, gaudy 
pictures, and made-to-order details, the newspaper will reflect a 
corresponding attitude. If the cultivated man or woman would 
insist as much on accuracy and respectability in general news as 
the baseball fan and political campaigner insist upon the correct 
recording of their interests, many abuses would disappear. No 
paper can thrive in the face of continued disapproval on the part 
of its readers. 

"The Canons of Journalism.” A significant trend of the times, 
indicating the development of a sense of professional pride and a 
consciousness of public responsibility, is the recent adoption of a 
code of ethics by the American Society of Newspaper Editors. 
The association is composed of editors and managing editors of 80 
per cent of the daily newspapers in American cities of more than 
one hundred thousand inhabitants. 

There is little in this code of ethics, styled the Canons of Jour¬ 
nalism, that has not been accepted and practiced to no little extent 
through many years, by editors mindful of the obligations of their 
profession. The importance of the action taken by the society lies 
in the fact that it sets up definite standards of conduct for the 
whole body of journalism. "It is a banner,” says one member, 
"to which all men can repair who want to, and those who do not 
will be judged by it.” 

The canons are herewith reproduced in full: 

The primary function of newspapers is to communicate to the human 
race what its members do, feel, and think. Journalism, therefore, demands 


r 


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W.whteb 4%; M ^ Uratwm.lvos »h « 4 ^ ? ' 
ro* ' 1 


THE FIRST PENNY PAPER IN AMERICA 

The New York Sun , destined to start a revolution in newspaper methods, was the 
leader in the 3o’s of the popularization of the press. First it adopted a price of 
one cent a copy, which it maintained up to the time of the Civil War, then it set 
out to interest the masses with short news stories and articles. Its youth was 
hardly characteristic of the brilliant literary achievements of its maturity under 

the direction of Charles A. Dana 


























































12 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 


of its practitioners the widest range of intelligence, of knowledge, and of 
experience, as well as natural and trained powers of observation and reason¬ 
ing. To its opportunities as a chronicle are indissolubly linked its obliga¬ 
tions as teacher and interpreter. 

To the end of finding some means of codifying sound practice and just 
aspirations of American journalism these canons are set forth: 

I 

Responsibility —The right of a newspaper to attract and hold readers 
is restricted by nothing but considerations of public welfare. The use a 
newspaper makes of the share of public attention it gains serves to de¬ 
termine its sense of responsibility, which it shares with every member of 
its staff. A journalist who uses his power for any selfish or otherwise un¬ 
worthy purpose is faithless to a high trust. 

II 

Freedom of the Press —Freedom of the press is to be guarded as a 
vital right of mankind. It is the unquestionable right to discuss whatever 
is not explicitly forbidden by law, including the wisdom of any restric¬ 
tive statute. 

III 

Independence —Freedom from all obligations except that of fidelity to 
the public interest is vital. 

1. Promotion of any private interest contrary to the general welfare, for 
whatever reason, is not compatible with honest journalism. So-called news 
communications from private sources should not be published without pub¬ 
lic notice of their source or else substantiation of their claims to value as 
news, both in form and substance. 

2. Partisanship in editorial comment which knowingly departs from the 
truth does violence to the best spirit of American journalism; in the news 
columns it is subversive of a fundamental principle of the profession. 

IV 

Sincerity, Truthfulness, Accuracy —Good faith with the reader is 
the foundation of all journalism worthy of the name. 

1. By every consideration of good faith a newspaper is constrained to be 
truthful. It is not to be excused for lack of thoroughness or accuracy with¬ 
in its control or failure to obtain command of these essential qualities. 

2. Headlines should be fully warranted by the contents of the articles 
which they surmount. 

I # 


JOURNALISM’S WIDE DOMAIN 


13 


V 

Impartiality— Sound practice makes clear distinction between news 
reports and expressions of opinion. News reports should be free from 
opinion or bias of any kind. 

1. This rule does not apply to so-called special articles unmistakably de¬ 
voted to advocacy or characterized by a signature authorizing the writer’s 
own conclusions and interpretations. 

VI 

Fair Play—A newspaper should not publish unofficial charges affecting 
reputation or moral character without opportunity given to the accused to 
be heard; right practice demands the giving of such opportunity in all cases 
of serious accusation outside judicial proceedings. 

1. A newspaper should not invade private rights or feelings without sure 
warrant of public right as distinguished from public curiosity. 

2. It is the privilege, as it is the duty, of a newspaper to make prompt 
and complete correction of its own serious mistakes of fact or opinion, 
whatever their origin. 

VII 

Decency —A newspaper cannot escape conviction of insincerity if while 
professing high moral purpose it supplies incentives to base conduct, such 
as are to be found in details of crime and vice, publication of which is not 
demonstrably for the general good. Lacking authority to enforce its can¬ 
ons, the journalism here represented can but express the hope that deliber¬ 
ate pandering to vicious instincts will encounter effective public disapproval 
or yield to the influence of a preponderant professional condemnation. 

The wide range of activities. The making of the daily news¬ 
paper, therefore, is immensely more complicated and specialized 
than it was a generation or two ago. More opportunities present 
themselves to the ambitious worker than were possible in the 
pioneer days of newspaper development. First is the editorial 
council, headed by the owner or editor in chief, a council which 
determines the paper’s policy and gives that policy expression 
from day to day in editorials and news articles. The number of 
these penmen will vary with the size and importance of the paper. 
The quota rarely exceeds a dozen men, each of somewhat distinct 
temperament and outlook, all of them in rather close agreement 
with the prevailing ideals of the paper. 


14 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 

The managing editor supervises the gathering and reporting of 
news, and with him confer the news or make-up editor, the city 
editor, the telegraph and cable editors, the director of the syndi¬ 
cate service, the special writers, the Sunday editor, the art editor, 

the departmental editors, each 
with his own problems relating 
to space, treatment, and policy. 
The work of these editors is not 
closely supervised by the manag¬ 
ing editor, but goes directly to 
the printers after the general out¬ 
line of it is approved by the 
managing editor, or the "Chief,” 
as he is known in many offices. 

The city editor is in charge of 
the staff delegated to collect and 
write the local news. The copy 
produced by the reporters is pre¬ 
pared for publication by desk 
men or editors, and in some in¬ 
stances by rewrite men stationed 
at the city-room telephones. 

In addition to this editorial side 
of newspaper-making there is the 
business staff, made up of the bus¬ 
iness manager, circulation man¬ 
ager, advertising manager, and 
solicitors, the superintendent of 
mails, the clerks and auditors, 
and various other men concerned 
with collecting and distributing 
the revenues of the paper and 
upon whose shoulders rests the responsibility of making the paper 
profitable. Then there are the linotype operators, stereotypers, 
engravers, mailers, pressmen, wrappers, chauffeurs—in all a vast 
army of men and women who attend to the printing and distribu¬ 
tion of the newspaper. Each does his important part in producing 
the paper and getting it sold. 



JOSEPH MEDILL (1823-1899) 

Joseph Medill is the granite on which 
the Chicago Tribune is built. An 
early Lincoln man, a progressive, he 
was in time with his age, and the age 
did not leave him behind. His ideal 
of a newspaper’s duty was " to be the 
organ of no man, however high, no 
clique or ring, however influential, 
no faction however fanatical or 
demonstrative, and in all things to 
follow the line of common sense” 





JOURNALISM’S WIDE DOMAIN 


15 


To the question frequently put, 
"How many women are employed 
as reporters and editors?” the an¬ 
swer comes, " Relatively very few, 
and these in rather specialized po¬ 
sitions.” Of the 2168 names on 
the payroll of the Chicago Tribune , 
285 are women, and of this num¬ 
ber 35 are writers, feature writers, 
reporters, editors of special de¬ 
partments, and 250 are business 
women employed in taking want 
ads, checking up accounts, and 
in general secretarial and steno¬ 
graphic work. 

Opportunities and salaries. The 
high places in journalism await 
the men who have served their ap- 



WILLIAM ROCKHILL NELSON 
(1841-1915) 


prenticeship and have displayed 
their fitness to take greater re¬ 
sponsibility, with appropriate in¬ 
creases in pay. Managing editors, 
who have proved their news in¬ 
stincts and shown executive abil¬ 
ity, often draw as high as $25,000 
a year, some more; many em¬ 
ployees of the various editorial de¬ 
partments receive from $50 to $150 
a week, again depending upon the 
size and standing of the paper and 
duties performed. Metropolitan 
papers pay a minimum of about 
$75 a week to executives, and from 
that level the figure may run as 
high as $25,000 or $30,000 a year. 

City editors usually come from the ranks of the reporters who 
have thoroughly learned the varied phases of newspaper work 
and who unite generalship with practical knowledge. The scale 


William Rockhill Nelson, founder 
and editor of the Kansas City Star 
for thirty-five years, has been styled 
a Titan among newspaper men of 
America. In the largest sense he 
was mindful of his position, and he 
made his newspaper express his vig¬ 
orous, original, many-sided person¬ 
ality: his interest in good reading, 
good art, good government, and good 
living. "He was a dauntless soldier 
for the public welfare.” Nelson did 
not get into newspaper work until 
he was forty years old, and he at¬ 
tributed his success to the fact that 
he was not hampered by traditions. 
Every day in the year, he held, a 
newspaper must, in its typographi¬ 
cal appearance and in what it prints, 
be a gentleman 




i6 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 



of wages will vary, ranging from $40 a week on the dailies in 
smaller cities to perhaps $8000 or $10,000 a year or more on large 
metropolitan papers. Copy-readers, rewrite men, conductors of 

special public-welfare columns, 
departmental chiefs, are generally 
recruited from the ranks of the 
reporters who have proved their 
work and are paid $50 or $60 a 
week and upward. 

One of the most valued prizes 
that can come to a reporter is 
found in the appointment as Wash¬ 
ington correspondent, special 
writer, or foreign correspondent, 
at wages reaching as high as $150 
a week, including expenses. 

On some metropolitan papers, 
particularly in New York, certain 
reporters are paid on the basis of 
the space their stories occupy. 
These rates range from $4 to $2 5 
a column. Special correspondents 
also are paid on the basis of space. 
Writers on straight salary are 
sometimes paid $100 a week, al¬ 
though the average for a seasoned 
man ranges from $50 to $60. Be¬ 
ginners on metropolitan papers 
generally receive from $20 to $25 
a week, somewhat larger than be¬ 
fore the war. There is always a 
good chance of promotion and 
salary increase, dependent upon 
ability and industry. 

The trend today is toward 
higher salaries, due in some measure to the entrance of college- 
trained reporters into the newspaper fold. Training in a school 
of journalism will not in itself guarantee a large salary or insure 


HENRY WATTERSON (1840-1921) 

The name and fame of Henry Wat- 
terson are inseparably associated 
with the Louisville Courier-Journal. 
In 1868 he came to the editorship of 
the paper, and it speedily became 
the expression of his virile person¬ 
ality. Thoroughly Southern in his 
sympathies, he was nevertheless in¬ 
tensely concerned in restoring a 
North-South entente. He believed 
in the ideals of the Democratic 
party, and fought for them with 
ringing phrase and flaming sincerity. 
His most powerful editorials were 
written at the outset of the World 
War. "Marse Henry” was the last 
of a great race of editors 




JOURNALISM’S WIDE DOMAIN 


17 


any special consideration from a city editor, but it will be found 
of incalculable benefit in preparing the cub for newspaper service. 

The great ambition of many newspapermen is to strike out for 
other fields, preferably to try big-town journalism. A large per 
cent of so-called provincial reporters and editors fail in this ven¬ 
ture because of insufficient preparation. New York, San Fran¬ 
cisco, and Chicago are generally overstocked with newspapermen 
either out of jobs or seeking jobs. Competition in brains and skill 
is nowhere so brisk as in these three centers. Mediocre talent 
oftentimes falls by the wayside, unable to keep up the pace. 

Still another ambition that spurs on reporters is the dream of 
owning papers. Many do evolve into capable editors who take a 
real part in upbuilding their town and community, besides earning 
for themselves a large personal following; others meet reverses 
because they rush in without counting the cost of operating a news¬ 
paper plant. These men fail because they belong to the " literary ” 
type of newspaper workers, lacking in business sense and initiative. 

It should also be remembered that the newspaper office has sent 
its graduates into politics, advertising, publicity, literature, and 
business. Training in the art of approaching and understanding 
people, and in telling simply what he thinks and knows, affords 
an equipment that prepares the reporter to fill many niches of 
usefulness. The development of an agreeable personality, the 
acquisition of much practical knowledge relating to men and 
affairs, and the eager quest for the fundamental cause back of the 
effect have been found of inestimable value; indeed, journalism 
has proved an efficient training-school in innumerable phases of 
human activity, some of them quite remote from newspaper work. 

§2 

CLASS AND TRADE PUBLICATIONS 

Farms, homes, and industries. The daily paper is designed to 
meet the needs of the average man and woman; the technical and 
trade publication aims to occupy a specialized field and to be of 
practical service in business, industrial, and domestic relations. 
It is likewise journalistic in its scope, since it makes abundant 
use of current information, defined as class news, and is called upon 


18 ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 


to employ journalistic methods in reaching its readers. Such an 
allied field, therefore, presents an open pathway to the newspaper 
practitioner. More openings occur every year. 



JOSEPH PULITZER (1847-1911) 

America proved in Joseph Pulitzer 
that the immigrant can be Ameri¬ 
canized. Born in Hungary, he came 
to this country in 1864 , fought in 
the Civil War, worked as a stoker, 
then as a coachman, mastered Eng¬ 
lish, and was elected to the legisla¬ 
ture. Into journalism he took new 
ideas and a definite purpose. He had 
the courage to carry them out. He 
was the originator of the journalism 
of action and achievement. No force 
in journalism for American democ¬ 
racy, for justice and sympathy for the 
masses, has been greater than that of 
Pulitzer and the New York World 


The list of such class and trade 
publications includes farm jour¬ 
nals, women’s magazines, business 
papers, publications of innumer¬ 
able crafts and professions. 

For instance, there are more 
than five hundred farm journals 
in the United States, several of 
them with a circulation of more 
than a half million copies an issue. 
Some of these are national (for 
example, th e Country Gentleman), 
some sectional (the Washington 
Farmer). Careful analysis shows 
that about half of the matter in 
them is news. Two tendencies in 
the farm papers today are toward 
better, more humanized presenta¬ 
tion of material and better inter¬ 
pretation and understanding of 
the farmer’s problems after he has 
raised his crop. 

Women’s magazines, such as 
the Ladies' Home Journal, the 
Woman's Home Companion , and 
Good Housekeeping , do not carry 
"spot” news, but they do make 
abundant use of news-information 
articles, which are of great service 
to the housewife interested in 


cooking, sewing, home decoration, care of children, home business 
methods, and labor-saving devices. 

Engineering periodicals, such as the Engineering News-Record, 
the Iron Age, and the Railway Age, are in reality great technical 
newspapers. Technical news would take precedence over technical 




19 


JOURNALISM’S WIDE DOMAIN 


articles and discussion in any of them. The editor of the Railway 
Age supervises a staff of twenty men who write railway news, 
all of them covering their territory as thoroughly as any city 
newspapercoversthe police station 
and the municipal building. These 
papers also print many stories of 
the news-information type, deal¬ 
ing with construction work, new 
inventions, and with business 
methods in successful operation. 

The editing of house organs— 
such as Business, published by the 
Burroughs Adding Machine Co., 

The 57 News, published by the 
H. J. Heinz Company for their 
employees, the Erie Railway 
Magazine, also an employees’ 
magazine—offers rich opportunity 
to the skilled writer familiar with 



methods of salesmanship and pro¬ 
duction relating to specific prod¬ 
ucts, and interested in promoting 
better business for his firm. 

Adequately to serve class and 
trade publications requires special 
knowledge on the part of the writer 
and ability to tell his story intelli¬ 
gently, accurately, and entertain¬ 
ingly. Some of these publications 
employ staff men, others free¬ 
lance correspondents who range 
at will in search of material. Some 
of the articles are written by men 


ADOLPH S. OCHS (1858- ) 

When Adolph S. Ochs acquired the 
New York Times in 1896 it had less 
than 10,000 paid daily circulation 
and an annual business of less than 
$500,000. The circulation of the 
Times now (1923) exceeds 340,000 
daily and 500,000 Sunday circula¬ 
tion ; its gross annual business, prob¬ 
ably the greatest newspaper income 
in the world, exceeds $17,000,000. 
The Times has built a reputation for 
accurate, well-written news reports 
representing a wide range of interests 
and without recourse to sensation¬ 
alism. Its slogan is "All the News 
that’s Fit to Print” 


who have unique facilities for 

securing somewhat specialized information. A large part of the 
material offered by reader correspondents requires careful revision. 
Practical knowledge, plus a liberal education and newspaper expe¬ 
rience, furnishes a sound foundation for work on such publications. 




20 ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 

§3 

THE MAGAZINE FIELD 

Editors and writers. There are two distinct sorts of workers on 
magazines, those who edit and those who write. The first receives 
little recognition on the printed page, since his chief business is 
evaluating the work of others; but his function is an important 
one, carrying with it a good rate of pay in proportion to his ability 
to interest a group of readers from month to month. His value to 
the organization depends upon his resourcefulness and responsive¬ 
ness to new and interesting ideas. 

To the magazine contributor many doors are open, dependent 
upon the vitality of the story or article he has to offer and the 
vivacity with which he presents his wares. Here again a sound 
collegiate training, supplemented by practice in swift and colorful 
writing as implanted by experience in a newspaper office that offers 
close contact with human life and the people who live it, will be 
found of great value. Many of our most distinguished writers of 
stories, verse, and special feature articles found their first creative 
urge while engaged in newspaper work. Indeed, one of the most 
successful of current magazines in point of circulation and influ¬ 
ence is frankly journalistic in subject matter and treatment, and 
is for the most part the handiwork of trained newspaper reporters. 


CHAPTER II 


NEWS INTEREST 

Gauging public interest. "What is news?” is a rock upon which 
have been split many ponderous definitions, none of which has 
been found quite satisfactory. The epigram "When a dog bites a 
man, that is not news; but when a man bites a dog, that is news,” 
attributed to Charles A. Dana of the New York Sun , is most quot¬ 
able but quite untrue; while the answer "News is anything that 
interests people” is so broad in its scope as to include anything 
spoken, written, or thought, and of course many of these things 
do not in themselves make news. Every reporter must learn to 
recognize the stuff that makes a good news story and to pass 
by as worthless trivial gossip, vapid opinions, boresome personal 
experiences. 

Two kinds of news interest. The interest of human beings in 
the romantic adventure of living—an interest which the newspaper 
seeks to reflect—may be classified in two ways. One is a native 
interest, as shown in the average man’s concern for the things that 
intimately affect himself, his family, his friends, his business, his 
town and country. In this category also may be listed familiar 
persons, places, and things; extraordinary arid unexpected hap¬ 
penings ; mysterious occurrences; contests and competitions; the 
struggle for supremacy; children; animals; amusements—the 
whole panorama of daily life. The other interest is a cultivated 
one expressed in widening appreciation of matters which do not 
belong to our original endowment. Education, science, invention, 
the onward march of civilization, implant many new interests and 
reshape and redefine many of the older ones. Tomorrow’s news¬ 
paper will certainly devote less space to the sensational, banal, 
and frivolous in news and more to international, philanthropic, 
religious, and scientific activities. 

Most vital of all determining factors probably will be the mean, 
or average, intelligence of the American citizen. So long as it is on 

21 


22 ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 

the plane of a youth the general distinctions relating to news in¬ 
terest will probably continue to govern. If forces now at work 
should contrive to raise the average intelligence of the average 
newspaper reader to the stage of the early twenties, it would com¬ 
pletely revolutionize the conception of what properly consti¬ 
tutes news. 

The emergence of news from the drab background of uneventful 
routine may, perhaps, best be illustrated by a leaf from actual 
experience. 

How news grows. Suppose Mrs. Winfield H. Abbot, wife of a 
village merchant, boards an interurban car to go to a distant city 
to do her Christmas shopping. This is such a usual happening 
as to pass almost unnoticed. The "personal” column of the 
weekly newspaper might chronicle the incident in three lines, but 
it would deserve no more. Mrs. Abbot completes her Christmas 
purchases—among them a talking doll for her little girl, a suit of 
clothes for the boy, and a box of cigars for her husband—and 
boards a car homeward bound. Certainly these matters, being 
so ordinary and so commonplace, do not constitute news. In the 
meantime a blizzard has swept across the landscape, piling snow 
upon the tracks. The window-glass in front of the motorman’s 
seat is clouded, so that he does not see an automobile caught be¬ 
tween the gates of a crossing. The interurban car strikes the 
machine and drags it a hundred yards before the motorman can 
bring it to a stop. The passengers on the interurban car are badly 
shaken up, some cut by broken glass, Mrs. Abbot among the num¬ 
ber. When investigation is made of the automobile wreck a man 
and a woman are found dead. The man is identified as Robert A. 
Montgomery, superintendent of schools in an adjacent city, and 
the woman as his fiancee. They were to have been married on 
Christmas Day. 

The first spark of personal incident has been fanned into a blaze 
of widespread public interest. Both local and metropolitan papers 
would print the story, the village paper probably giving more 
space to Mrs. Abbot than the city daily. The addition of a single 
note of tragedy has transformed an otherwise insignificant hap¬ 
pening into news that will command attention. 


NEWS INTEREST 


23 

News resolves itself into concentric circles. The item of dis¬ 
tinctly local appeal has indeed a small radius; as other ingredients 
of more general interest are added, the compass swings into a 
larger area; when the note of intense universal human-interest is 
struck, the orbit may include a continent of eager listeners. 

News is a quality. It becomes apparent, therefore, that news is 
that characteristic of any happening which gives it an appeal be¬ 
yond the circle of those immediately concerned in it. Considered 
as a quality it is easy to understand why opinions concerning it 
differ so widely. As a quality it must be apprehended by a sense 
faculty, and the sense faculties differ with the individual. A red 
is not the same red to two people whose eyes are not of the same 
physical construction. The interval between two tones may be 
harmony or discord to the ear that hears it, according to the 
fineness and training of that ear. 

From this the problem enters the field of psychology, and the 
one who best determines news is the one who best knows what 
will interest the most people, not only today but tomorrow as well. 

In a sense everything that happens is a subject of news. The 
practical difficulty encountered is twofold: first, the utter impos¬ 
sibility of securing a satisfactory record of everything that hap¬ 
pens ; and, secondly, the fact that a large part of such a mass of 
information would appeal only to a limited circle. 

The quality of the unusual, the quality of mystery and romance, 
the quality of humor, the quality of freshness and timeliness in 
any happening combine to make it news, and its importance as 
news is in an exact proportion to the number of people in the 
community who will be interested in the event. 

The definition tested. That a happening, a personage, or a fact 
becomes a subject of news because of some special quality which 
sets it apart from the common round of events may be clearly seen 
by the examination of a typical newspaper story, clipped from the 
New York Times. The story is an account of how a Bronx tene¬ 
ment owner fell to his death from a fire escape while hunting a 
burglar. It received conspicuous display in the columns of the 
Times. As an example of the unusual making the commonplace 
a big news item, the account is reproduced. 


24 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 


While searching for burglars who had robbed one of the apartments in a 
tenement he owned at 1317 Wilkins Avenue, the Bronx, Walter C. Rippel, a 
hotel keeper who owned considerable real estate in the Bronx, slipped and 
fell five stories from a fire escape last night, fractured his skull, and broke 
both legs. He died a few minutes later in Fordham Hospital. 

Rippel lived on the first floor of the Wilkins Avenue tenement, a five- 
story double-decker, and had received many complaints from his tenants 
whose rooms had been plundered. About three weeks ago Morris Roth- 
stein’s apartment on the third floor was broken open and $500 worth of 
jewelry taken. Rippel at that time made a vigorous demand for more police 
protection, but it was not forthcoming. Then he told his tenants to report 
the next burglary to him and he would do some policing on his own account. 

Yesterday afternoon Mrs. John Giles, who lives on the top floor of the 
tenement, went shopping after locking her apartment. She returned about 
5 o’clock to find the lock on the door missing. It had been neatly cut out 
and removed. When she tried the door it wouldn’t open. She hurried down 
to the first floor and met Rippel coming up. 

"There have been burglars in my apartment,” she cried, "and I think 
they are in there now, for I cannot open the door.” 

"This is the chance I have been waiting for,” exclaimed Rippel, without 
waiting even to arm himself. "I’ll be my own policeman.” He ran upstairs 
and tried to force the door, but it wouldn’t budge. Then he hurried around 
to the tenement adjoining, where the fire escape connects on the fifth floor, 
excepting for about two feet and a half, with the fire escape in the rear of 
the Giles apartment. Thomas Lufton, the janitor, wanted to go first, but 
Rippel thrust him aside, with the remark that he wanted to make the 
capture himself. 

He climbed out on the fire escape and clutching the narrow railing tried 
to step across the opening. He either misjudged the distance or his foot 
slipped. With a cry that brought tenants to their windows on almost every 
floor Rippel slipped through the opening, his clutch on the frail iron railing 
slipping at the same time, and he plunged headfirst to the cement pavement 
of the courtyard, five stories below. 

When Lufton, leading a group of excited women tenants, reached the 
courtyard Rippel was insensible. The janitor ran for a policeman, while 
women and children cried and wrung their hands. The policeman called an 
ambulance from the Fordham Hospital. The surgeon found Rippel dying. 
He made all haste to the hospital, and placed him on the operating table. It 
was a marvel to the physicians that Rippel did not die the instant he struck. 

When the excitement had quieted down somewhat Lufton and the police¬ 
man forced the door of the Giles apartment. They found the place had 
been ransacked and several valuables taken. The burglars were nowhere 
in sight. It was discovered that after removing the lock and entering the 


NEWS INTEREST 


25 

apartment the burglars had wedged the lock between the door jamb and 
the handle in such a way that the door couldn’t be opened from the outside. 
The only way they could have escaped was down the fire escape. No one 
saw them depart. 

Rippel was thirty-three years old and was in the hotel business with his 
brother at Freeman Street and Southern Boulevard, the Bronx. He owned 
several other rooming houses besides apartment houses in that part of the city. 

Analysis of the foregoing story brings to light a combination 
of news qualities. 

In the first place, the report of the tragedy indicates it is of 
recent occurrence. The announcement comes in the nature of a 
shock. Narrowly considered, the episode is news because it is 
fresh, new, timely, local. In the second place, the occurrence has a 
tragic cast and is sufficiently out of the ordinary to warrant ex¬ 
haustive treatment at the hands of a reporter. The established 
order of things is violated. Conventionality yields to caprice, 
chance, or blind accident, lifting the event out of the standardized 
setting of the usual. 

Another quality giving significance to the story is the fact that 
the victim of the accident was a man of prominence, whose circle 
of friends is wide. The announcement of his death under ordinary 
circumstances would be news, but if to that announcement is 
added the startling element that he met death while pursuing a 
marauder who had invaded his apartments, the circle of appeal 
enlarges. 

Fear of burglars is more or less common to people the world 
over, amounting in the minds of some to ungovernable terror or 
obsessions. The cause of the fatality, therefore, adds the charac¬ 
teristic of human-interest, that subtle quality that unites poor and 
rich, young and old. Such a story, aside from its more local ap¬ 
plication, is based upon elemental emotions, and connects that 
tenement in the Bronx with every home in the country. As a 
matter of fact, this was the element that sent the story hurrying to 
every part of the country over the leased wires of press associa¬ 
tions. Indeed, it is this very quality of human-interest, this psycho¬ 
logical, instant appeal to such universal instincts as curiosity, 
humor, sympathy, and fear, that prompts certain newspapers to 
neglect the trivialities of daily routine and to center their attention 


26 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 


upon the dramatics of life, springing from experiences and adven¬ 
tures more or less common to all newspaper readers. The ap¬ 
preciation of this fact accounts for the great popularity of picture 
newspapers. 

News and advertising. Arbitrary distinctions have added to the 
confusion in the public mind regarding the nature of news in its 
relation to the business office. Newspapers the country over dif¬ 
ferentiate between news and advertising; yet as a matter of fact 
much advertising is news, and a great deal of that which passes as 
news is advertising. For practical purposes, matter that is more 
directly profitable to the individual than to the community is 
called advertising, and matter that benefits the community rather 
than the individual is called news. 

The fact that a large department store offers to sell men’s suits 
below cost is really a news item; but the fact that the store would 
presumably receive more benefit from this publication than the 
public prompts the paper to charge for that information, while the 
fact that a candidate is in favor of a certain reform movement is 
not construed as advertising, on the supposition that, if elected, 
his attitude is of more importance to the community than to him¬ 
self. A further distinction between news and advertising is found 
in the fact of repetition. The statement that a prominent artist is 
to appear in any capacity before the public is news the first time 
it is printed; the second time the same fact is brought to the 
readers it is construed as advertising. 

News and the press agent. Between the reporter, whose duties 
are exclusively concerned with news-gathering, and the advertiser, 
whose activities are wholly taken up with the interests of a single 
concern, there is what is known as the publicity man, generally a 
person of newspaper experience, representing some cause or con¬ 
cern whose operations are of considerable public interest. Theo¬ 
retically, each newspaper should have a representative to look after 
and report the happenings of this concern. Practically, in all large 
cities this is impossible, and the firm or corporation, by employing 
someone skilled in newspaper practices, is enabled to have its 
doings properly and liberally reported, while the newspaper is 
saved the expense and difficulty of securing what it recognizes as 
legitimate news. Here the incidental advertising value is supposed 


NEWS INTEREST 


27 

to be fully compensated by the practical news value of what is 
printed. Press agents frequently work in full harmony with regu¬ 
lar reporters and assist them in their work. 

Different kinds of news. As news is a quality of things and not 
the thing itself, it follows that there are gradations in the value 
of news. News must be like a buckwheat cake, piping hot from 
the griddle. The reddest items only are wanted, and those which 
are of a bright hue in the morning may pale to sickly pink by the 
afternoon in the light of rapid development. 

So, too, there is recognized the distinction between routine news 
and special news. Routine news is any happening of a reasonable 
degree of public interest that can be counted upon as occurring 
at stated intervals or with approximate regularity of frequency; 
while special news (always the better news) covers those unlooked- 
for, irregular, mysterious, or startling occurrences in life of which 
there is no warning and for which there can be little or no prepara¬ 
tion. Uniformly these items have preference over the others. 

The question of the selection of news ordinarily brings up the 
matter of taste and ethics, and upon this point it is hard to lay 
down any arbitrary rule. The trained mind will not more often 
err in the selection of news items from a given number of stories 
than will the cultured taste in selecting pictures, books, or music. 
The man of ethically sound mind will follow the dictates of his 
training as surely in the maze of murders, robberies, suicides, 
scandals, and political appeals as he will in the matter of personal 
pleasure, money, or the integrity of his own soul. 

Treatment of news. It still remains to be pointed out that a 
great majority of the manifold subjects recognized as news admit 
of varied treatment, and it is this variety in presentation which 
differentiates them into "yellow,” "sensational,” or "conserva¬ 
tive.” The newspaperman of wide experience may adapt himself 
to any one of these three classes. The young newspaperman will 
most readily fall into the class where his temperamental attributes 
make him most at home. 

Gathering news is like a soldier’s obedience—not to be ques¬ 
tioned. For the reporter there is no problem of whether or not 
the news is good news—that belongs to his superior. Facts and 
only facts are wanted. With the clearest insight of which he is 


28 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 


capable he must collect these facts, be sure of their setting, and 
establish their relation one to another. If his observation is correct 
and his logic true, his news is faultless and his service invaluable. 
The question as to whether or not his report consists of news proper 
to print will be determined by those in authority over him. For 
the frequently met request to keep certain things '"out of the 
paper,” the true reporter has one unwavering answer: "That is 
beyond me. You will have to see the editor.” 

To confront every event that comes within his observation 
with the questions: Is there any new phase ? Is there in this any¬ 
thing of interest to the public? Is it timely? Is it true?—to 
look sharply, to think deeply, to write clearly and accurately, to 
question concisely, to correlate correctly the episodes that make 
up any occurrence—these habits of thought will make the student 
a good reporter and enable him to know what is news. 

If to this mental attitude he adds a keen sympathy with human 
nature, a faculty of recognizing the unusual in the usual; if he 
can see deeply enough to get the cause behind the effect; if he can 
think truly enough to get the relation of the one to all; if he can 
feel keenly enough to grasp the essentials and idealize them, to 
blend with the pungent phrase, simple, direct, and clear, the heart 
throbs of humanity, he cannot fail to be a good reporter, and has 
within him the possibilities of becoming a great newspaperman 
by rising to heights of usefulness and power to which only the 
faithful may aspire. 


CHAPTER III 


THE WRITER AND HIS READERS 

Elements of general appeal. Young writers who would serve 
journalism acceptably need to be reminded at the outset that their 
material is to consist of facts and not fancy, and that they are 
called upon to make the record of these facts unmistakably clear. 
Their mission is to bring specific information to the attention of 
busy men and women of varying degrees of intelligence and of 
diverse social conditions. 

Rhetorical figures, elaborate explanation, and a jumble of trivial 
details tend to destroy the three essential characteristics of a 
good news story; namely, dramatic effectiveness, compactness, 
and clarity. Clear, direct statements of fact are wanted. To tell 
what happened is the first business of the reporter; to tell how 
it happened may come next. 

Newspaper style must be virile, straightforward, honest. If it 
can suggest atmosphere and tremble with action, so much the bet¬ 
ter. To the first injunction—that prolixity of style discourages a 
multitude of readers—is added the second, that space is always 
valuable. This puts additional premium on brevity. 

A good newspaper story is as well-knit as a Homeric narrative, 
as compact and impersonal as the parables of the Bible. It is 
well always to bear in mind that the story of the Creation, the 
greatest event ever chronicled in written form, is told in four 
hundred words. 

The young reporter should studiously avoid those bookish and 
technical terms with which his college career may have tinctured 
his style. A moment’s thought will convince him that as only one 
in every hundred persons has a college education, so only one 
out of every hundred readers will probably appreciate classical 
and historical allusions grouped in ponderous sentences. Simple, 
homely, conversational methods reach the largest number of 

29 


30 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 

readers. Freedom from affectation marks the best journalistic 
style of today, affording thereby a sharp contrast to the stilted, 
formal style in vogue a half-century ago. 

A distinguished editor once remarked: 

The American people want something terse, forcible, picturesque, strik¬ 
ing, something that will arrest their attention, enlist their sympathy, arouse 
their indignation, stimulate their imagination, convince their reason, awaken 
their conscience. I must see that my readers get the truth; but that is not 
enough. I must put it before them briefly so they will read it, clearly so 
they will understand it, forcibly so they will appreciate it, picturesquely so 
they will remember it, and above all, accurately, so they may be wisely 
guided by its light. 

Words are memories. A word is a memory. It is a symbol, 
either written or spoken, which custom has associated with an 
everyday practice, thought, or object. Frequent use of these 
memories makes possible a medium of understanding. When a 
writer uses mat de mer when he means "seasickness,” and offers 
"peregrinations” when he might say "wanderings,” he is building 
a barrier against quick interchange of thought. He has deserted 
the familiar symbol for the ornate and the pompous. He often 
fails, therefore, to build a track straight to the mind of his reader. 

The short familiar word. William Cullen Bryant, for many 
years editor of the New York Evening Post , in advice to a young 
editor, summed up the matter of word discrimination in a few 
telling exhortations: 

Be simple, unaffected. Be honest in your speaking and writing. Never 
use a long word where a short one will do. Call a spade by its name, not 
a well-known oblong instrument of manual labor. Let a home be a home 
and not a residence; speak of a place, not a locality, and so on of the rest. 
When a short word will do, you always lose by a long one. You lose in 
clearness, you lose in honest expression of meaning, and, in the estimation 
of all men who are capable of judging, you lose in reputation for ability. 
Elegance of language may not be in the power of us all, but simplicity and 
straightforwardness are. 

The majority of our short, everyday words, such as prepositions, 
conjunctions, names of common things, and verbs that denote 
familiar actions, come from the Anglo-Saxon. Because these terms 
are simple and concrete, and not at all on account of their deriva- 


THE WRITER AND HIS READERS 31 

tion, they are to be preferred to the corresponding classical terms. 
When a word of classical origin is the more common, it is preferable. 

Note the force of this poem of fifteen lines entitled "The Stab,” 
written by William Wallace Harney, a Louisville newspaperman: 

On the road, the lonely road, 

Under the cold white moon. 

Under the ragged trees he strode; 

He whistled and shifted his weary load, 

Whistled a foolish rune. 

There was a step timed with his own, 

A figure that stooped and bowed, 

A bare, white blade that gleamed and shone, 

Like a splinter of daylight downward thrown, 

And the moon went under a cloud. 

But the moon came out so broad and good, 

The barn-fowl woke and crowed: 

Then ruffled his feathers in drowsy mood, 

And the brown owl called to his mate in the wood 
That a dead man lay in the road. 

Editorial expressions. Unwittingly many young reporters allow 
themselves to be swung into the use of superlatives that indicate 
their own pleasure, enthusiasm, friendly admiration, perhaps vio¬ 
lent antagonism. When the adjective is thus abused, the writer 
ceases to be an unbiased recorder of an objective fact , which 
is his chief function. Such "editorial” words as "dastardly,” 
"good,” "bad,” "interesting,” "lovely,” "unfortunate,” "criminal,” 
"guilty,” to quote only a few, show clearly that the reporter is 
allowing his feelings, prejudices, and sympathies to color his story. 
He has become a critic, a judge, rather than a fair-minded witness 
who tells only what he sees and knows. The reporter must ex¬ 
amine every man, institution, event, and happening from a de¬ 
tached, disinterested vantage point. If he were to state his opinion, 
even though it may be intelligent and valuable, he would be sure 
to antagonize some reader holding a belief radically different. 
This is particularly true in matters of religion, politics, social cus¬ 
toms, racial traits, and personal habits. The only safe ground for 
the news-writer is strict neutrality. The singular pronoun "I” is 


32 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 

reserved for the writer of a signed article and "we” for the editor 
and publisher. Most newspapermen are nameless observers, and 
their good stories are known only to office associates. 

Dullness a crime. While in a general way it should not be for¬ 
gotten that newspaper style is notable for its terseness, ease, brev¬ 
ity, and vigor, it should not be inferred that it is therefore wooden 
and commonplace. Abundant use is made of every opportunity 
to paint a picture or to sketch a dramatic incident. No reporter 
ever lost his job because he wrote too well. There are many 
misdemeanors in journalism; there is but one crime, that of being 
dull. Nowadays originality of diction is far from discouraged; 
individuality is constantly sought; new ways of saying things in 
attractive, buoyant fashion are welcomed. "The function of the 
imagination,” says John Howard Kehler, "is not to invent sub¬ 
stitutes for the truth, but to find new ways of telling the truth.” 
Readers will forgive immaterial inaccuracies sooner than intoler¬ 
able stupidity in writing the news. "To be interesting tell the 
truth audaciously” is a good motto. 

The importance of this quality of attractive presentation of the 
facts—without sacrificing accuracy for smart cleverness—is aptly 
touched upon by Charles A. Dana, for many years the editor of 
that "best and brightest paper,” the New York Sun. Mr. Dana 
said in the course of one of his lectures to young men: 

The reporter must give his story in such a way that you know he feels its 
qualities and events and is interested in them. He must learn accurately 
the facts, and he must state them exactly as they are; and if he can state 
them with a little degree of life, a little approach to eloquence, or a little 
humor in his style, why his report will be perfect. It must be accurate; it 
must be free from affectation; it must be well set forth, so that there shall 
not be any doubt as to any part or detail of it; and then if it is enlivened 
with imagination, or with feeling, with humor, you have a literary product 
that no one need be ashamed of. Any man who is sincere and earnest, and 
not always thinking about himself, can be a good reporter. 

Avoiding the rubber-stamp. It is not to be inferred that because 
the modern newspaper places its approval upon a style shorn of 
sentimentality and verbosity, with simplicity as its keynote, that 
there is no room in news-writing for careful literary craftsmanship. 

The great deficiency confronting most reporters is an impover- 


THE WRITER AND HIS READERS 


33 


ished vocabulary. Long-continued routine writing tends to the 
frequent use of the commonplaces of everyday speech, without 
giving them serious thought. Newspaper style has been declared 
bromidic. The charge has much truth in it. Popular slang expres¬ 
sions appear more persistently in newspaper columns than in any 
other type of writing, since it is in the newspaper that the world 
finds itself mirrored in its every whim and caprice. 

At the same time the charge of slovenly English is not entirely 
just, as will be discovered in an examination of such papers as the 
New York Times , the Chicago Tribune , and the Kansas City Star , 
where the purist in language will find words used with precision 
and originality and skillfully employed in the fashioning of ex¬ 
pressive phrases. The general truth that much newspaper English 
of today needs improvement in two features, correct grammar and 
forceful rhetoric, remains unassailed despite these noteworthy 
exceptions. The very conditions under which the newspaper is 
produced, together with the educational deficiencies of many of 
the men who gather the news, have resulted in creating a style 
frequently marred by inaccuracy, threadbare conventions, and 
weak, meaningless phrases that creep in despite the efforts of 
copy-readers to weed them out. 

" It ’s the Way it is Written.” In the course of a shop talk, " It ’s 
the Way it is Written,” 1 Mr. Henry J. Smith, news editor of the 
Chicago Daily News , had some illuminating things to say about 
the modern reporter’s use of words. Mr. Smith reenforced his 
message by citing a well-wrought newspaper story that achieved 
distinction of style. These are his words of helpful counsel to 
ambitious craftsmen: 

I urge you not only to absorb and analyze as many masterful writers as 
you can, but to study discriminatingly the work of those anonymous re¬ 
porters whose work comes before you every morning and evening. 

Let me read to you a short piece published in the Chicago newspapers 
a while ago: 

(On board vessel on the Volga river) —There are no boating 
songs on the Volga this year. 

The balalaika (the Russian guitar-like instrument) is not ringing 
from the few boats which are floating along this once mighty river, 

i This address was given in the series of Lectures from the News Laboratory before 
the students of the Medill School of Journalism on the evening of November 3 , 1921 . 


34 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 

whose shallow waters are affording a poor avenue of escape from 
the parched grain fields which mock the peasants to whom they 
formerly yielded abundant bread. 

Pawnbrokers have long since received the balalaikas in exchange 
for rubles necessary to buy food for the starving families. 

Samovars no longer sing merrily on the hearths of the peasant 
cottages. They, too, have been exchanged for bread. Together with 
the family ikons and the bright brass candlesticks that once adorned 
every mantlepiece, they are exhibited in the second-hand shops of 
villages and cities while their former owners are huddled together in 
miserable camps along railways and rivers waiting for somebody 
to take them to a land of food. 

Priests who are as miserable as the parishioners have set up 
altars in the wayside camps and are burying the dead and praying 
for the half-dead who kneel submissively before the cross and in¬ 
tone their petitions to heaven at sunrise and sunset. 

Fortunately, the sun does not fail them often. The autumn has 
been dry so far and the glorious Indian summer has made their lot 
more tolerable than it will be when autumn rains add to the misery 
of the unsheltered, poorly clothed hundreds of thousands. 

A few families are still floating down the river in frail rowboats 
stacked high with children and battered household utensils. 

The conditions are about as bad down the Volga as they are 
here, but the more restless refugees say they feel better if they keep 
moving. Here and there a family still has a horse or an ox which 
has managed to live on parched stubble and is dragging along be¬ 
hind the rickety wagon until the time when it shall drop dead. 

Cemeteries surrounding the churches which line the entire course 
of the Volga are crowded with refugees. The drought and the grass¬ 
hoppers have robbed them of bread. Their prayers have been of 
little avail. Their priests have not been able to get them food. 

Yet they have not utterly lost hope and still devoutly cross 
themselves and feebly voice petitions as they slowly merge into the 
dust to which they are so soon to return. 

Who wrote that? Oh, nobody in particular. Only an Associated Press 
correspondent. A far-away, lonely soul floating down the Volga River on 
a battered steamer. He wrote as the concentrated image of what he had 
seen. He wrote it without thought of rhetoric, I think; without any vain 
picture of an audience. There had happened simply this: he had wit¬ 
nessed the tragedy of a nation; his mind had become filled with horrible 
and imperishable visions. And, like a faithful reporter, he wrote down, as 
simply as one of the chroniclers of olden time, a sketch of what he had 
seen. And here is this sketch, published for millions of readers, an example 
of fine newspaper art. Day after day, if you search the paper with a keen 
eye, you can discover pieces of writing as good as this, or better; unsigned, 
sometimes humbly placed. Make the search for them a habit. 

Suppose we analyze the qualities of this story I have just read. 


THE WRITER AND HIS READERS 


35 


For one thing, I find only twenty-six adjectives or words used as ad¬ 
jectives in the total of practically four hundred words. Think how abstemi¬ 
ous this fellow was. And consider the art necessary to produce vivid 
pictures without the handy little adjective. One of the maxims of Carl 
Sandburg is "think twice before you use an adjective.” 

Another thing: notice the small percentage of polysyllabic words and 
words of Latin origin. This man employs Anglo-Saxon, the words of our 
common speech. 

His sentences are short; or if he uses a long one here and there he sand¬ 
wiches it between a couple of short ones. 

While painting a broad picture, without a single name of a person or 
town in it, he succeeds in selecting details so homely, typical, and concrete 
that you feel as though you had actually witnessed a definite place and 
seen definite things happen. Journalism extraordinary! The work of no 
jazz journalist. 

To show how easily this piece of newspaper writing might have been 
spoiled I will do a part of it over for you in the style of a jazz journalist: 

On the broad, gleaming bosom of the stupendous Volga as I learn 
and hereby cable exclusively after unheard-of privations there are 
no boating songs ringing out as of yore. The gleaming samovars 
never again will utter their joyous ditties from the broad hearths of 
the huddled cottages of the once wealthy and prosperous peasants. 

Once, many months ago, prior to the advance of the grim reaper, 
these samovars, together with the magnificent family ikons and the 
gorgeous brass candlesticks, adorned the mantelpieces of all homes 
in the fashionable residence districts of this, the second largest town 
of the province of Samara. Now come to a lowly estate, they are 
on exhibition in the fly-specked windows of the second-hand stores 
of the villages and cities, all of which I have recently visited in my 
capacity of special commissioner. The former owners, once promi¬ 
nent millionaires, women once flaunting their beauty in a hundred 
salons, and children once ruddy-cheeked, swarm like flies in miser¬ 
able camps along the interminable railways and the vast rivers wait¬ 
ing in terror and desperation for the arrival of that succor which 
shall mean to them transportation to a land of peace and plenty. 

And so forth. 

The lesson that emerges from all of this is that of self-control. First 
enrich yourselves, then simplify yourselves. Supposing you have increased 
your vocabulary by 200 per cent, and can hurl phrases by handfuls, and 
can beat the entrails out of a typewriter in ten minutes, the next thing is 
to master your own brilliancy. This is the greatest mastery of all. 

Sentences long and short. However clear and precise a word 
may be, it must be harnessed with other symbols before communi¬ 
cation is established. When young writers set out to build phrases, 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 


36 

clauses, and sentences, in a word, to develop style, they encounter 
many difficulties. The spirit is willing, but the execution weak. 

The injunction to write short, pithy sentences is one of the first 
commandments issued to the beginner by a city editor. It is a 
useful rule, although it is sometimes strained in practice, because 
it brings,terseness of expression and compactness of structure, due 
to the absence of qualifying phrases and weakening participial 
constructions. A short-breathed sentence is like the crack of a 
whip. It arouses jaded faculties to attention. It is particularly 
effective in duplicating the intense excitement and quick patter 
of incident that surround such a news happening as a fire. The 
accompanying report of the saving of helpless cripples from the 
flames of a burning hospital through the heroism of a telephone 
operator illustrates the point well. It is the handiwork of a re¬ 
porter on the staff of the Cleveland Press. It follows: 

Signal 18 flashed. 

The night bell rang. 

Mrs. Goldie Yassanye, telephone operator 
at South Euclid, rushed to the switchboard. 

"Fire! Fire!” cried a voice. "At Rainbow cot¬ 
tage. Sixty crippled children are in danger—” 

Then the line was disconnected. 

The operator’s hands flew over the switch¬ 
board, ringing every number in the district. 

"Fire! Rainbow cottage is on fire. Come 
on and help. Hurry!” she shouted thru the 
phone to people for miles around. 

A two-story frame school building in the 
rear of Rainbow cottage, Green-rd., South 
Euclid, was on fire. 

Sixty little cripples were sleeping in the hos¬ 
pital ward, 20 feet away. 

Miss Aliman, night nurse in the hospital, 
saw the blaze and heard the crackling of the 
fire. She called Miss Ruth Cliff, another nurse. 

Miss Cliff in turn hurriedly called Michael 
Meyer, watchman, who rang the big night 
alarm bell in the windmill. 

Miss Wilson, superintendent of the cottage, 
directed 13 nurses in removing the 60 crippled 
children from the hospital. 

Some of the children were fastened to the 
beds, weights holding down their legs and arms. 

They were all carried to safety, thru dense 




THE WRITER AND HIS READERS 


37 


smoke, into the dining room in the front of 
the building. No one was hurt. 

Persons roused by Mrs. Yassanye formed a 
25-yard bucket brigade from the pump to the 
burning school and threw water on the flames. 

Thurston Rowland, thirteen, rode his bi¬ 
cycle from house to house calling for help. 

By this time the window frames and the 
eaves of the hospital were on fire. 

BUCKET BRIGADE FORMS 

The bucket brigade and two chemical en¬ 
gines from the Cleveland Heights fire depart¬ 
ment turned from the original fire to the 
burning hospital, the school building fire being 
beyond control. 

The volunteers climbed to the roof of the 
hospital and finally put out the flames. 

Mrs. Yassanye called the Cleveland fire de¬ 
partment. The fire department operator said 
he could not send firemen from Cleveland 
without an order from the South Euclid mayor. 
South Euclid has no mayor. 

COVERED BY INSURANCE 

"Our loss is covered by about $2400 insur¬ 
ance,” said Mrs. R. H. Crowell, Euclid Heights, 
president of the Rainbow cottage trustees. 

"The school formerly was a barn. A piano 
and some of the children’s winter clothing and 
bedding, stored in the building, were burned. 
The main hospital building is fireproof. It 
never was in danger.” 

Mrs. S. Lewis Smith, i960 E. 82d-st, is 
secretary of the trustees. 

"The fire probably was caused by crossed 
electric wires,” said E. J. Riddle, janitor. 

"Gee, that was exciting,” said little John, 
one of the Child patients, after he had been re¬ 
turned to his bed in the ward which was in the 
greatest danger during the fire. "It was real 
hot, too.” 

"I kinda liked it. It was so different,” said 
Anna, a crippled girl. 

"I can’t go back to sleep,” said Jeanette, 
six. "I wasn’t a bit scared. I knew the nurses 
would take care of me.” 




38 ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 

This story, built up by a string of short detached sentences, 
while undeniably forceful, is apt to tire the reader. There is too 
much bing—bing—bing; the constant staccato movement becomes 
painfully monotonous, just as it does in music. The glaring defect 
of the story is that it lacks correlation of details. Two or three 
long sentences, binding together associated facts, would make this 
an admirable story in every way. 

Despite office commandments it should be remembered that the 
long complex sentence has a real mission as a carrier of thought. 
It is especially serviceable in marshaling an array of facts more 
or less intimately connected. Added clearness may be achieved 
by balanced structure and the use of repeating, or echo, words. 
Notice this emphatic paragraph and its effective blending of the 
high lights: 

Four bandits, two masked and all armed, 
held up the eight members of the office force of 
the R. T. Moorehouse Paper Company, Bridge 
and Thompson streets, Frankford, yesterday 
afternoon, shot Robert T. Moorehouse, presi¬ 
dent of the company, who offered strenuous 
resistance, and escaped with a payroll of $3000. 

Shortly after 4 o’clock the men drove up in 
a large gray touring car in front of an alley- 
way leading back to the offices of the paper 
company. All left the machine and walked to 
the office building, two remaining outside and 
the others, masked and with revolvers drawn, 
entered the front office and commanded all in 
sight to throw up their hands. The order was 
obeyed. 

Whatever the type of sentence adopted, the reporter should not 
fail to exercise individual judgment and common sense if he is to 
make his story smooth and forceful. He must seek a rigid economy 
of time, space, and attention, qualities desirable in every well-built 
newspaper story. 

Length of paragraphs. Just as the cast of sentences aims to 
bring ease and comfort to a rapid reader, just so does the paragraph 
exert a similar function. Long unbroken lines of solid type set in 
a narrow measure are uninviting. News-writers and copy-readers 
therefore break up their sentences into convenient divisions that 
allow glimpses of restful white space. Sometimes each individual 




THE WRITER AND HIS READERS 


39 


sentence may be paragraphed (notice the fire story quoted); more 
often two or three sentences are yoked together. The average 
length of the newspaper paragraph is fifty-six words, equivalent 
to eight lines of type. Exaggerated paragraphing for startling 
effects, however, is quite as objectionable as too little para¬ 
graphing. One line of typewriter copy equals two lines of print. 

Acquiring newspaper style. The beginner, conscious of his own 
clumsiness in attempting to state his facts in concise, vigorous 
fashion, may well ask the question, "How may I secure this 
coveted journalistic style?” The answer is simple, "By working 
for it every day.” This means adding new words and expressions 
to the vocabulary, studying good newspaper stories, patient re¬ 
vision of written copy, constant enthusiasm and interest. A man 
must know before he sets out to write. He must himself see clearly 
if he expects the reader to understand and relish his story. Once 
the inexperienced writer appreciates the significance of details and 
recognizes their relative importance, he will find less difficulty in 
giving them accurate expression. Good writing depends for its 
effectiveness upon knowledge born of clear perception, earnest 
thought, and never.-ceasing effort to tell the truth. 

Practice in the writing of newspaper stories under the critical 
eye of a discriminating city editor will bring facility as the days 
go by. Experience will teach the beginner many things; so will 
the office talk of capable fellow workers. Mistakes and failures 
will serve as guideposts. 

Probably the most helpful suggestion, however, is that made by 
a veteran city editor, in his advice to an ambitious beginner in 
newspaper work: 

Read Dickens until you can go out and describe the man you meet with 
almost as much detail as he did. 

Read Shakespeare until you have absorbed something of the marvelous 
vocabulary he commanded. 

Read the Bible until you have a glimmering of how its writers condensed. 
Paul’s address on Mars Hill takes up little more than a "stick” of news¬ 
paper type. The entire story of the crucifixion is told in two sticks. Be¬ 
sides that, no book in the world contains such powerful, dramatic English. 
No book in the world is so much quoted. No book in the world, I believe, 
will help the newspaper man to learn to write for newspaper readers so 
much as the Bible. 


40 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 


Read newspapers—newspapers of the kind whose stories are interesting 
whether or not you know the places and the people mentioned in them. 

There is no need of trying to copy the style of these writers whose works 
you read. Just absorb them, and if you have it in you to write there will 
come out, sometime, a style of your own. 

Recognized office practices. Every paper of importance has a 
few rules of English or of style which are more or less peculiar to 
it. In most cases these rules are arbitrary, or seem to be; but 
there is a manifest value in uniformity, which leads the paper to in¬ 
sist on its rules being obeyed. They really constitute a style-book 
of good English, making for force and accuracy. A dictionary of 
verbal blunders common to newspapers, with a compilation of 
instructions to reporters and copy-readers, will be found in the 
Appendix. Study these matters closely so that they become a part 
of your equipment. 

GOOD NEWSPAPER STORIES 

Note. The accompanying stories are reprinted here to illustrate good newspaper dic¬ 
tion, well-wrought sentences, and as exhibits of the rhetorical qualities of force, clear¬ 
ness, and compactness. It is suggested that they be assigned by teachers for classroom 
discussion, with special reference to the reporter’s use of words and phrases. 

I 

CRIPPLE WALKS AS COUE' URGES HIM ON 

Emile Coue, the "better and better every day” man, made a "self- 
supposed” paralytic walk across the stage of Orchestra hall to-day before 
3000 persons, gathered there to hear his first Chicago lecture on conscious 
autosuggestion. 

The crowd had just begun to heckle the little, white-haired French 
chemist for not attending to the paralytic, Otto R. Kropf of Milwaukee, who 
was sitting helpless on the stage, one of twenty-seven volunteer subjects. 

"Help the man with the cane! ” the galleries shouted as M. Coue made 
his parting bow, after some perfunctory demonstrations of the possibilities 
of conscious autosuggestion. 

hasn’t ze magic hand 

"But I am not ze healer,” the little Frenchman shouted back at them, his 
white goatee bristling with fight. "I have not ze magic hand. Have I not 
explained? ” 


THE WRITER AND HIS READERS 


4i 


Half the crowd grumbled audibly; the other half applauded; M. Coue 
tried to make his way off the platform. As he passed the chair where Kropf 
was sitting he stopped and spoke. Kropf clutched at his hand and would 
not let him go. 

The audience meanwhile had started shuffling out. Coue and his man 
were hidden in the group of volunteers. The whole drama took place 
under cover. 

"It may be that I can help this man,” M. Coue said. "If his trouble 
is psychic conscious autosuggestion will be good for him. If it is real 
paralysis—” He shrugged his shoulders. 

Kropf said he had been unable to walk for a year. 

"I just collapsed one day,” he said. "I haven’t walked since.” 

TELLS HIM TO CONCENTRATE 

The little Frenchman told him to concentrate his mind on his helpless legs. 

"Keep saying, 'Qa passe! £a passe!’” he said. "That means, 'It is 
passing.’ Do you understand?” 

Kropf nodded. 

Coue then began gently stroking the man’s legs, first slowly, then gradu¬ 
ally swifter, while Kropf kept time with his "Qa passe” until it had become 
nothing more than a rapid " Pass-a-pass-a-pass.” 

Suddenly the Frenchman rose and clutched Kropf’s arm. 

"Now stand,” he said. "You can walk. Doyoubelieve.it? Tell your¬ 
self you can walk. You can, you can, you can.” 

He swept the close-packed watchers aside and gently led Kropf along. 
Kropf kept his feet, though his legs behaved horribly, helplessly. He shuf¬ 
fled in short steps through the group of spectators. Then those left in the 
emptying auditorium sighted him and began to cheer. 

"See! You are walking,” Coue kept telling his man. "You are walking 
better. Your legs are better. Soon you will take a longer step. ... Now! 
Astride! Faster! . . . Faster!” 

CROWD ROARS APPLAUSE 

Kropf lengthened his stride at each word of command until he was walk¬ 
ing at a normal speed. His legs began to act a little more normally. The 
crowd’s applause became a roar. 

Still encouraging with his rapidly repeated "better, better, better,” the 
little man slowly released Kropf’s arm. Kropf, red-faced and perspiring, 
his eyes fairly popping from his head as he forced himself to concentrate, 
seemed not to notice. 

He walked the full length of the stage unaided and rapidly. Then Coue 
forced him to sit and rest. 


42 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 


"Now are you satisfied?” he shouted at the cheering audience. The 
cheers were doubled. 

Kropf sat limp in his chair, tears streaming down his face as he tried to 
stammer thanks. 

To only one other of the twenty-seven did M. Coue give apparent help. 
He worked with several, but in vain. Howard Canter, 5945 Midway park, 
the victim of a nervous disorder, he seemed unable to help. A blind man 
was passed by. Others merely were advised to read of and practice 
autosuggestion. 

A stammerer, however, spoke distinctly after just a moment’s conversa¬ 
tion with M. Coue. Curing stammering is the easiest task of conscious 
autosuggestion, the Frenchman has said repeatedly. 

In the lecture which preceded the dramatic Kropf incident, M. Coue 
explained his theories briefly, disclaiming miraculous, even healing, powers. 

"I am not a healer,” he said. "I merely show you how to help yourself 
by using your imaginations.” 


SUGGESTS A NEW SLOGAN 

The imagination is stronger than the will, he said, elaborating a principle 
suggested earlier in the day, when he laughingly advised Chicago to change 
its slogan from "I Will” to "I Am.” 

M. Coue arrived over the Michigan Central from Detroit early in the 
morning for his brief Chicago engagement. 

He stood shivering in the bitter wind outside the Park row station—a 
somewhat pathetic figure in the decent Sunday black some thrifty Nancy 
tailor cut for his American tour—while the photographers had their way 
with him. 

He looked frightened, but resolute, for all the world like one of those 
war-time pictures of a village hostage facing a firing squad. His lips moved 
constantly as the flashlights boomed, no doubt with some optimistic variant 
of "better and better”—"These reporters aren’t mad; these reporters 
aren’t mad.” 

For of all the phenomena encountered in this strange country the behavior 
of interviewers and press photographers puzzles the little chemist most. 

"Oooh! ” he exclaims, spreading eloquent hands, when you ask him about 
the ordeal by flashlight powder. "So many questions. How do you think 
of them?” 

He looked like a reprieved convict when at last the sharpshooting ceased 
and he was on his way, with managers and secretaries, to the Blackstone 
hotel (it’s a secret) to be interviewed about the phrase he has put on the 
lips of half the world: "Every day, in every way, I’m getting better 
and better.” 


THE WRITER AND HIS READERS 


43 


PROOF OF DOCTRINE’S SPREAD 

He had striking proof of the penetration of his doctrines as he pulled 
away from the station. 

"Don’t know who that there man is?” one red-cap said disdainfully to 
another. "Why, that’s Cooey. Every day in every way I’m getting better 
and better.” 

M. Coue’s managers had feared a waiting crowd of sick and crippled, 
but the earliness of the arrival saved them. In other cities the little chemist 
has been all but mobbed by men and women who think him a miracle 
worker. Precautions are to be taken to keep such crowds from him in the 
two days of his Chicago visit. 

"But I am not a worker of miracles,” M. Coue exclaimed when talking 
was possible. "Always I must explain this. I cannot touch with the hand. 
No! No! It is nossing like that! ” 

He speaks English well and clearly in private conversation, with just a 
trace of an accent, but his age and his shyness make him hard to understand 
on the platform. 


IS FAMOUS BUT SHY 

He is extremely shy. For all the fame that has come to him he remains 
the quiet chemist of Nancy who began studying hypnotism and so came 
upon the healing methods for which he has abandoned his pills and powders. 
He is embarrassed by the attentions of fashionable women and influential 
men. The crowds that lie in wait for him outside his dressing rooms and 
his hotel distress him. His little brown eyes always have a frightened look 
in them, except when he begins talking. 

Then they sparkle and his hands tremble with eagerness and his un- 
fashionably cut goatee is browned by an interminable succession of rapidly 
smoked cigarettes—gold-tipped cigarettes that surely would scandalize 
Nancy. 

Twenty-two years have passed, he explained, since he began substituting 
autosuggestion for castor oil in his healing work in Nancy. He had been 
studying hypnotism. It occurred to him that some of the secrets of hypnotic 
influence might be applied to the curing of imaginary ailments. 

"So many would not be sick at all,” he said, "if they did not keep think¬ 
ing themselves sick.” 

He began practicing on customers who seemed in no real need of his 
drugs. He induced them to say and repeat and keep repeating that they 
were not ill, but were getting better and better. 


44 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 


LET IMAGINATION DO IT 

"It is just letting the imagination work,” he said, in telling his story. 
"We have in ourselves a powerful instrument for good or evil—the imagi¬ 
nation. If it thinks bad things, we become ill. If it thinks good things, we 
are happy. That is all.” 

His fame spread swiftly. Patients who had been helped told their neigh¬ 
bors about it. They told others, embroidering the story as like as not, until 
pilgrims began coming to Nancy for treatment by "the miracle man.” 

Nearly a hundred of them are at his door every day now. (They are 
among the reasons for his decision to sail back to France Saturday without 
going farther west than Chicago.) Twelve years ago even they became so 
numerous that M. Coue had to give up his chemist’s business and devote all 
his time to healing by autosuggestion. 

"To me they come from all over the world,” he said. "I have had 
visitors from East Africa and Australia and your America.” 

He fished down into a tremendous inside pocket of his shapeless black 
coat and fetched up a disordered handful of letters. 

LETTERS FROM THOSE CURED 

"Look,” he said, with boyish delight, passing out sample letters to be 
read. A stutterer, cured by the magic Coue phrase. A supposed paralytic, 
made to walk by his own imagination. A man who could not sleep until 
he visited Coue. 

"It is just themselves,” he said. "Any one can do it—if he will try, 
and will believe when he says he is getting better and better.” 

Americans are the readiest disciples he has found, M. Coue said. In this 
country he has been received with an enthusiasm which still has him short 
of breath. England is next, he said, and France most stubborn of all. 

"Because I am a Frenchman, of course,” he added. 

Americans, indeed, have been too enthusiastic. In New York M. Coue’s 
managers have to move him late at night from one hotel to another. 
Cripples, paralytics, consumptives, even insane persons had overrun the first 
hotel. They crowded the lobbies and forced their way even into the corri¬ 
dor outside the little old Frenchman’s door, there to wait for a touch of his 
hand or the sound of his voice. 

THINK TOUCH IS HEALING 

In Boston, M. Coue was almost mobbed by the lame, the halt and the 
blind after his first lecture. A crowd had assembled outside the stage en¬ 
trance. As the lecturer left the patients swarmed upon him. They wanted no 
advice. They demanded only that they be allowed to touch him and be cured. 


THE WRITER AND HIS READERS 


45 


Now his managers are more careful. They came into Chicago as unob¬ 
trusively as possible and will behave like conspirators in a mystery play 
while they are here. The Blackstone hotel management has been instructed 
not to admit that the Coue party is in the house. Room numbers are sup¬ 
pressed. Call one of the rooms by chance and you will be told that "it is 
against orders to ring.” 

"It is necessary to play this absurd game,” said Lee Keedick, Coue’s 
lecture manager. "If we did not take infinite precautions, the poor man 
would not have a minute’s rest. He is too famous for his own good.” 

In some other cities M. Coue has held clinics. He will attempt none here. 


HAS NO MAGIC POWERS 

" If I could work miracles, it would be different,” he said. " But I can¬ 
not. I have no magic powers. I have just a common-sense way of putting 
the imagination to work. And in one clinic this cannot be done. The results 
would be discouraging. One must have many clinics. Then improvement 
appears and good is done. In Chicago I have not the time.” 

He is, instead, to give four lectures at Orchestra hall—two today and 
two tomorrow. In those lectures he will expound in detail his theories 
about the use of autosuggestion in curing illnesses. 

"I am hopeful that some day all physicians will make autosuggestion 
part of their equipment,” he said. "I believe in drugs—I am a chemist. 
But I also believe in autosuggestion. American doctors have been open 
* minded. We shall see.”— George P. Stone, in Chicago Daily News 


II 

FORT DEARBORN BANKS MERGE 

In a $60,000,000 bank absorption, the Fort Dearborn National bank and 
the Fort Dearborn Trust and Savings bank were taken over by the two 
Continental and Commercial banks last night. All books and accounts were 
transferred by a force which labored all night. 

This morning checks on Fort Dearborn accounts will be paid over the 
Continental and Commercial counters, and the largest bank west of New 
York stands behind a guaranty to pay $60,000,000 of deposits dollar for 
dollar and penny for penny. 

This action, which followed an all day session of the Chicago Clearing 
House association and leading financiers, happily averted the most serious 
bank crisis that has recently threatened the La Salle street district. 

The amount paid the Fort Dearborn for good will is approximately 
$1,250,000. 


46 ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 

Chicago’s finance is sound 

The taking over of the two banks removes the one weak spot in the 
financing center, so members of the clearing house declared last night, 
while the ease with which the $60,000,000 absorption was accomplished— 
in less than four or five hours after George M. Reynolds of the Continental 
and Commercial had made his offer—is a striking demonstration of the 
solidity and soundness of Chicago’s banking position. 

The difficulties of the two Fort Dearborn institutions were attributed to 
over extension of credits. The two institutions, instead of confining them¬ 
selves to banking, it is said, went into financing of manufacturing, merchan¬ 
dising, and real estate, and the business depression of the summer and 
autumn then froze up a large quantity of loans. Finally W. A. Tilden, 
president of the Fort Dearborn National bank, and his associates called 
in the clearing house committee and threw up their hands. 

EXTENDED CONFERENCES HELD 

Extended conferences were held by the Clearing House association. An 
examination of assets and liabilities was made, which led James B. Forgan 
of the First National bank and Mr. Reynolds of the Continental and Com¬ 
mercial to make offers to take over the Fort Dearborn properties. Last 
night the offer of the Continental and Commercial was accepted. 

All obligations will be met dollar for dollar; no depositor will lose a cent; 
the only ones who stand to lose are the shareholders of the Fort Dearborn 
properties. Last night it was said by some that shares themselves will 
eventually pay off 50 to 75 cents on the dollar. Others estimated share¬ 
holders themselves may finally get dollar for dollar. 

NEW PRESTIGE TO BANKS 

The Continental and Commercial banks add still further to their pres¬ 
tige as the largest bank outside of New York through the merger. These 
allied banks will have total deposits of about $400,000,000 and total re¬ 
sources exceeding $525,000,000. The National bank has capital of $25,000,- 
000, surplus of $15,000,000, and undivided profits of $5,521,000. The state 
bank has capital of $5,000,000, surplus of $5,000,000, and undivided profits 
of $2,267,000. 

This banking group started with the old Continental National as a nu¬ 
cleus. In 1909 the Continental acquired the American Trust and Savings 
bank. In 1910 when it was merged with the old Commercial National the 
name was changed to the present title. 


THE WRITER AND HIS READERS 


47 


GUARANTY BY CLEARING HOUSE 

The absorption entails the assumption of $60,000,000 of liabilities. The 
Continental and Commercial banks are guaranteed against possible losses 
by the clearing house banks to the extent of $2,500,000. The Fort Dear¬ 
born shareholders have made a further guaranty against loss of $1,500,000, 
a total of $4,000,000. In addition there is capital, surplus, and undivided 
profits of at least $8,000,000. Financiers declared last night this is more 
than ample to take care of the estimated $12,000,000 representing frozen 
assets of the Fort Dearborn banks. 


MR. REYNOLDS’ STATEMENT 

The formal action in taking over the banks was announced by Mr. 
Reynolds as follows: 

The Continental and Commercial National bank and the Continental and 
Commercial Trust and Savings bank have taken over the Fort Dearborn National 
bank and the Fort Dearborn Trust and Savings bank, respectively, as at the close 
of business Dec. 31, 1921. 

All deposits in the Fort Dearborn National bank and in the Fort Dearborn 
Trust and Savings bank have been guaranteed by the Continental and Commer¬ 
cial National bank and the Continental and Commercial Trust and Savings bank, 
respectively, and checks drawn against accounts in the Fort Dearborn National 
bank will be honored by the Continental and Commercial National bank, and 
deposits, including savings accounts in the Fort Dearborn Trust and Savings bank, 
will be placed to the credit of the depositors on the books of the Continental and 
Commercial Trust and Savings bank. 

The business heretofore carried on by the Fort Dearborn National bank and 
the Fort Dearborn Trust and Savings bank will hereafter be conducted by the 
Continental and Commercial National bank and the Continental and Commercial 
Trust and Savings bank, respectively, at their offices, 208 South La Salle street. 


BACKED EARL MOTORS, INC. 

The obligations of Edward Tilden & Co. are estimated at about 
$6,800,000, and of this amount about $4,000,000 represents borrowings from 
banks in various states with Fort Dearborn bank stock and some other 
securities pledged as collateral. It was said last night that the estate in 
numerous instances had been asked to replace the bank stock with other 
collateral, but was unable to do so on short notice. 

The Tilden interests were largely behind the recent reorganization of the 
Briscoe Motor company into Earl Motors, Inc. It is understood the estate 
took a major portion of an issue of $2,500,000 of new bonds and considera¬ 
ble new common stock, of which 200,000 shares were issued at $10 a share. 
Altogether it was estimated the estate purchased about $4,000,000 in new 


48 ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 

securities. The common stock recently has shown sharp depreciation in 
market value. 

The Chicago house of Merrill Cox & Co., note brokers, had close business 
relations with the Fort Dearborn banks, its vice president being Averill 
Tilden. 

The New York house of Merrill Cox & Co. is not involved in any way, 
so it is stated.— Arthur Evans, in the Chicago Tribune 

III 

BURIAL OF THE UNKNOWN SOLDIER 

Washington, Nov. ii (by the Associated Press).—Laid to rest with all 
the honors a grateful nation could pay, the unknown hero from France was 
bivouacked among the gallant dead today in Arlington National Cemetery. 

The highest officers of the Army and Navy walked beside his coffin; none 
but the hands of gallant comrades of the great war laid hands upon it. 
President Harding walked behind his bier to do him homage; former 
President Wilson made his first public appearance in months; General 
Pershing turned aside an opportunity to ride and trudged beside the body 
to the last resting place. Representatives of foreign governments rever¬ 
ently laid their highest military decorations on his casket and with soil 
from France where he fell unknown, he was laid away. 

Minute guns at Fort Myer boomed their continuous tribute as the funeral 
procession was passing from the Capitol to the great marble amphitheater 
in Arlington, where the ceremonies were opened with the playing of "The 
Star Spangled Banner” by the Marine Band. 

Under an autumn haze, gilded with shafts of light that broke down every¬ 
where, the cortege swung into Pennsylvania Avenue, the nation’s way of 
victory. Ahead, the broad sweep of the avenue was banked solidly with 
people crowded closely for a glimpse of the cortege, of the President, who 
walked behind the casket, and of all the famous men who trudged in the 
column to pay honor to the dead. 

It seemed more like the celebration of a great victory than a funeral. 
Everywhere flags waved. They fluttered in clusters and snapped and glit¬ 
tered in the sun’s changing beams. They were arranged to commemorate 
the opening of the arms conference Saturday. But the gay bunting paid its 
first tribute to the passing of the Unknown Hero. 

As the procession started, Major General Bandholtz riding at the fore, 
the gleam of bright metal showed on the breasts of the khaki clad legion 
trooping behind him. By general order, every officer and man of the army 
and navy who took part wore today his medals and decorations conferred 
by a grateful people. There were no foreign decorations to be seen. The 


THE WRITER AND HIS READERS 


49 


Distinguished Service Cross, the Distinguished Service Medal, the Victory 
Medal and tokens that spoke of high deeds in older wars, alone were in 
evidence. 

The avenue was free of obstruction, from the great gray bulk of the 
Capitol on its hill to the eastern end, to the pillared front of the Treasury 
nearly a mile away. Even the trees that spread a relieving band of green 
and grateful shade along the way under summer suns, stood with branches 
almost stripped of leaves; only here and there a clustering mass of yellow 
or autumn bronze hid the view from the windows, crowded with faces, that 
looked down on the broad way. 

Former President Wilson, riding in a carriage with Mrs. Wilson, joined 
the procession as it swung around the north end of the Capitol. As he 
turned into Pennsylvania Avenue the crowds along the way cheered him. 
A fringe of boy scouts, armed with white staffs, and also police, stood 
close along the ropes that held back the quiet crowds as the funeral train 
moved along at shorter step than the army knows, because of the old 
men who defied infirmities of age to walk behind the nation’s nameless 
one of fame. 

There was little cheering and no waving of flags, but the great hush of 
respect for the dead. First came a row of motorcycle police, then the 
mounted officers, then Major General Bandholtz and his staff, horses danc¬ 
ing a little in the cool air and under the restraint of the bridle. 

Then a great army band, the solemn strains of a funeral dirge, its 
cadences marked by the thud of muffled drums. 

Next moved the first of the soldier and sailor escort, a platoon of in¬ 
fantry with fixed bayonets gleaming, behind them the war colored carts of 
horse-drawn machine guns. They moved in the square block formation and 
- behind these, in the same solid blocks, came the sailors, white-hatted and 
with long streamers of crape drooping from their colors. 

Then came the clergy, headed by Bishop Brent, former Senior Chaplain 
of the A. E. F., who later was to commit the body to the tomb. With him 
were Chaplain Lazaron of the Reserve and Chaplains Frasier of the Navy 
and Axton of the Army. 

Immediately behind them rolled the flag-draped coffin borne on the cais¬ 
son, with the honorary pallbearers, all admirals and generals, marching on 
the outside of the column beside it and the eight distinguished living heroes 
selected as body bearers walking on the inside of the column. Hats came 
off in the crowds as the solemn moment passed. 

Six black horses with drivers rigid in the saddle drew the funeral car on 
the gun limber. The simple flag-wrapped casket rode high, with only a 
handful of the flowers and tokens that had been lavished to deck it. Among 
them lay the withered cluster of French blossoms that had come with him 
all the journey home. 


50 ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 

Immediately following the Unknown Hero’s body walked President 
Harding and General Pershing side by side, with their aides at a short dis¬ 
tance. Admiral Coontz, Vice-President Coolidge, Admiral Jones, command¬ 
ing the Atlantic Fleet, and Chief Justice Taft came next. 

The President and the man who led the American armies overseas walked 
almost alone. The President was clad in black mourning dress with silk hat 
and marched step for step with General Pershing, who wore of his many war 
decorations only the Victory Medal that every comrade of the war may wear. 

Former President Wilson was to have come next in the line, according to 
programme, but having arrived late at the start he took a place further back. 

The Supreme Court followed and then Lieutenant Generals Young and 
Miles, former commanders of the army. Then came the Cabinet, marching 
in two lines, Governors of some States followed, and then Major General 
Lejeune, commander of the Marine Corps, and Senator Cummins, President 
pro tempore of the Senate. Then came members of the Senate marching in 
column of eights. Speaker Gillet and members of the House of Representa¬ 
tives came next. 

Holders of the Medal of Honor marched eight abreast. Then came one 
hundred and thirty-two representatives of all who served in the World War 
coming not more than three from a State. War veteran societies followed. 

It was 9.15 o’clock when the head of the procession reached the White 
House. When the caisson had passed, President Harding turned out of his 
place in the line and, after passing through the executive officers, went to the 
front of the White House grounds to review the remainder of the line as it 
passed on its way to Arlington. The President later took a motor car for 
the amphitheater. 

While the President was reviewing the procession, there came a moment’s 
delay and he stepped into the street and shook hands with the Medal of - 
Honor Men. 

When former President Wilson passed in his carriage, Mr. Harding 
saluted him by taking off his hat and the former President returned the 
salute. The crowd cheered. The reverent silence all along the line had only 
been broken by handclapping and some cheers as the former President 
passed by. After passing the White House, Mr. Wilson’s carriage turned 
out of the procession and drove him home. 

It was Mr. Wilson’s first public appearance since March 4, when he rode 
up Pennsylvania Avenue with President Harding. The comment was heard 
in the crowd that the former President, long a sick man, looked better than 
many folk expected. 

Although many of the notables followed President Harding’s lead and 
turned out of the procession at the White House, General Pershing with 
Secretary Weeks and Secretary Denby, however, continued on the long 
march to Arlington. 


THE WRITER AND HIS READERS 


5i 


While the remainder of the procession was winding its way to Arlington 
the great amphitheater was filling with the guests invited to the ceremony. 
The body was to arrive there, according to programme, at 11.15 o’clock. 

After winding its way between the long lines of a reverent multitude in 
the streets of the Capital, the funeral procession toiled up the long hill lead¬ 
ing to Arlington, arriving at the main gates a little after n o’clock. The 
invited guests had begun to assemble long before within the white marble 
walls of the amphitheater overlooking the still-flowing Potomac and the 
Capital itself nestling in the blue haze of a fall day. The guests, including 
great chieftains of the war, were seated in the boxes and on the long rows 
of marble benches and thousands were standing. Thousands more stood 
outside, or anywhere merely to be near. 

The first strains of Chopin’s "Funeral March” heralded the coming of 
the Unknown to his great honors. 

Far out among the trees toward the fort the dull dun color of moving 
troops showed and, marching half-step to the throbbing, muffled beat of the 
drums, the Marine Band swung slowly out to circle the great colonnade to 
the entrance where the surpliced choir waited. 

Just before 11.15 o’clock the caisson rolled up to the west entrance and 
the flag-draped coffin was removed by the body-bearers. 

The solemn chords of a hymn joined the deep notes of the band. The 
choir sang "The Son of God Goes Forth to War” and the telephone ampli¬ 
fiers caught up the notes and threw them out over the land to the thousands 
standing as far away as San Francisco. 

Preceded by the choir and the clergy, the coffin was borne through the 
west entrance around the right colonnade to the apse and was placed on 
the catafalque. 

The great audience rose and stood uncovered as it passed in, followed by 
General Pershing and the distinguished officers of the army and navy as 
mourners. 

On its simple base, a hundred yards from where it will lie for all eternity, 
the casket of America’s Unknown rested as though supported by a mountain 
of blossoms of every color and kind from nations all over the world. 

Marshal Foch and his staff came in with all his war medals across his 
breast. General Jacques, the Belgian chief, also came and the two strolled 
about the marble colonnade behind their boxes exchanging greetings. Gen¬ 
eral Diaz of Italy joined them. Together, the three moved with the Japanese 
Mission to the place where the body lay. 

Ambassador Geddes, in full British diplomatic uniform, brought flower 
offerings for the dead from England’s King, with a guard of British officers. 

Chief Plenty Coos of the Crow Indians, attired in full war regalia, 
feathered bonnet, furs and skins of variegated colors, was seated on the 
platform, joining the group of distinguished military leaders from Europe. 


52 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 

Thus the uniform of the first Americans took its place with those of its 
Allied Powers in the last war. A group of Indian braves appeared in the 
audience, tiptoeing in their beaded moccasins down the aisle to their seats. 

Premier Briand of France was among the last to arrive. As former Presi¬ 
dent Taft took his seat Admiral Beatty appeared, surrounded by his officers. 

Exactly on time, at 11.50 o’clock, President and Mrs. Harding came in 
and took their places. 

Almost immediately the Marine Band began to play "The Star Spangled 
Banner,” the silver notes echoing down over the river valley and up into 
the arches of the wooded hills. At the conclusion of the anthem, Chaplain 
Axton pronounced the invocation as follows: 

Almighty God, our gracious Father: in simple faith and trust we seek Thy 
blessing. Help us fittingly to honor our unknown soldiers who gave their all in 
laying sure foundations of international commonweal. Help us to keep clear the 
obligation we have toward all worthy soldiers, living and dead, that their sacri¬ 
fices and their valor fade not from our memory. Temper our sorrow, we pray 
Thee, through the assurance, which came from the sweetest lips that ever uttered 
words, "Blessed are they that mourn, for they shall be comforted.” Be Thou 
our comforter. 

Facing the events of the morrow, when from the work bench of the world 
there will be taken an unusual task, we ask Thou wilt accord exceptional judg¬ 
ment, foresight and tactfulness of approach to those who seek to bring about a 
better understanding among men and nations, to the end that discord, which 
provokes war, may disappear and that there may be world tranquillity. 

Hear us, O Lord, as now, in obedience to the call of our President, there 
sounds throughout the land the national Angelus calling to prayer, and we stand 
with bowed heads and reverent hearts in silent thanks for valor and valorous 
lives and in supplication for divine mercy and blessing upon our beloved coun¬ 
try: "And upon the nations of the earth: and to Thee, Wonderful Counsellor, 
Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace, shall be ascribed all glory and 
honor forever. Amen.” 

As the chaplain concluded the invocation the sudden, dear note of the 
army trumpet call "Attention” marked noon and the Nation-wide two- 
minute pause. The whole company stood bowed in silence. 

[The transmission of this despatch was interrupted for two minutes at 
this point while all employees of the Associated Press stood at attention.] 

There was absolute silence, a hush as if the world had stopped. The open¬ 
ing notes of "America” signalled the ending of the two-minute period and 
the great chorus was caught up and swept over the hills, the thousands out¬ 
side joining in the mighty hymn of love of country. 

As the last great note died away Secretary Weeks stepped to his place 
beside the bier for his brief speech as master of ceremonies. He said: 

We are gathered, not to mourn the passing of a great General or other con¬ 
spicuous person, but an unknown soldier of the Republic, who fought to sustain 
a great cause for which he gave his life. Whether he came from the North, the 


THE WRITER AND HIS READERS 


S3 


South, the East or the West, we do not know. Neither do we know his name, 
his lineage or any other fact relating to his life or death, but we do know that he 
was a typical American who responded to his country’s call and that he now 
sleeps with the heroes. 

We, who are gathered here in such numbers, are simply representative of all 
the people of the United States, who are here in spirit and whose sentiments have 
been more deeply stirred by this event than any in the life of our country. These 
sentiments can only be adequately expressed by one citizen—the President of the 
United States. 

Immediately afterward President Harding began delivering his address— 
a tribute in the name of the American people to the man who slept beneath 
the flag. 

As Mr. Harding spoke, the sun drove through the haze and splashed the 
whole great gathering with golden light, as though it also would lay its life- 
giving hand in commendation on the humble, faithful servant at rest. 

There was unbroken silence as the President spoke. Every tone of his 
voice showed the emotion he felt as he read slowly and distinctly so that his 
words might be caught by the electric appliances and sent winging across 
the nation to gatherings listening beside the far Pacific, at San Francisco, 
and another multitude drawn together in mourning in New York. 

As the President concluded a clear blue sky spread above the white bowl, 
turned up from the green hills below, as though it also offered a tribute of 
emotion and high feeling to the mystery beyond, into which the lonely 
sleeper had gone forever. It was as though all the solemn words and chords 
were lifted up to Him above. 

The warming sun rained down its rays on those gathered to do honor to 
the dead. Its beams struck in beneath the pillars of the colonnade to paint 
the white arches with dark, gold-toned shadows over the heads of the great 
men standing there in tribute. 

There was a dramatic moment as the President concluded, when, touch¬ 
ing on the coming conference in Washington, he said it should be the 
beginning of a better civilization, a more lasting peace, and then ended his 
address with a recitation of the Lord’s Prayer in which thousands joined, 
their strong, earnest tones rolling up the pledge of faith to the sunlight above. 

At the conclusion of the prayer a quartet of singers from the Metro¬ 
politan Opera House of New York sang "The Supreme Sacrifice.” 

Oh, valiant hearts, who to your glory come, 

Through dust of conflict and through battle flame. 

Tranquil you lie, your knightly virtue proved. 

Your memory hallowed in the land you loved. 

The voices chanted, and those other valiant hearts asleep all about on 
the slopes of Arlington must have heard and felt it was for them also that 
America made this day her own and theirs. 


54 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 


Major Fenton of the General Staff then stepped forward and handed to 
Secretary Weeks the velvet-lined boxes containing the Nation’s highest 
token of valor. Secretary Weeks took the Congressional Medal of Honor 
and the Distinguished Service Cross from their cases and handed them to 
President Harding. The President leaned over the casket and, side by side 
at the head, pinned both in place. 

Then Lieutenant General Baron Jacques of Belgium stepped forward. 
He paused beside the casket, then clutching the Belgian Croix de Guerre 
on his own breast, tore it from the cloth of his tunic to pin it on the flag- 
draped casket. The Belgian Chief stepped back and his hand shot to his 
cap brim in salute. 

The Victoria Cross, Britain’s most prized war decoration, never before 
placed on the breast of a man not a British subject, was next bestowed. 
Earl Beatty, Admiral of the Fleet, set it on the flag and saluted as he 
stepped back. 

Then General, the Earl of Cavan, representing the King of England in 
person, spoke briefly of the services this humble soldier had rendered not 
only to America but to the world there in France. 

Marshal Foch of France, with every show of feeling, placed above 
the quiet breast the Medaille Militaire and the Croix de Guerre. He cited 
this dead soldier for valor, speaking in French, saluted and turned away 
to let General Diaz bring forward and pin in place Italy’s Gold Medal for 
bravery. 

In order, the Roumanian Virtutea Militaea was added to the gleaming 
row on the casket by Prince Bibesco, Rumanian Minister, the Czecho¬ 
slovak War Cross by Dr. Stepaner, Minister here, and the Virtuti Militari 
by Prince Lubomirski, Polish Minister. Cuba also bestowed her gift upon 
the soldier dead. 

At the conclusion of that part of the ceremony the quartet sang: "Oh, 
God, Our Help in Ages Past,” and Chaplain Lazaron read a psalm. Then 
there was a soprano solo, "I Know That My Redeemer Liveth,” and 
Chaplain Frazier read the Scripture Lesson. 

Accompanied by the band and led by the quartet, the great audience 
lifted its voice in "Nearer, My God to Thee,” the deathbed hymn of the 
martyred McKinley. 

That completed the ceremonies for that part, and the coffin was next 
borne from the apse and out to the sarcophagus, preceded by the clergy 
and followed by the pallbearers, the President and Mrs. Harding, Vice- 
President and Mrs. Coolidge, the senior foreign delegates to the Arms 
Conference, Secretary Hughes, Secretary Weeks, Secretary Denby, the 
foreign officers who had left decorations, General Pershing and the others 
who had been seated in the apse in the amphitheater. 

Meanwhile, the band played in measured tones "Our Honored Dead.” 


THE WRITER AND HIS READERS 


55 

The ceremony of committing the Unknown Hero to the stone crypt with 
earth from the soil of France then followed, conducted by Bishop Brent. 
As the body was committed to the crypt the last moment of the solemn 
ceremony was at hand. At slow half step to the dirge-like music of the 
band the casket was carried out to the moulded stone work that surrounds 
the resting place. The band played "Lead, Kindly Light" as the pall¬ 
bearers laid the casket on the silver railing over the crypt. Generals and 
admirals of the Unknown Soldier’s guard stood bareheaded. 

Out over the rolling slope below thousands more also stood in reverence. 

Bishop Brent stepped to the casket to read the burial service, and the 
wreaths and flowers were brought forward. 

As the casket was placed the body-bearers gave place to the high officers, 
headed by Major General Harbord and Admiral Rodman, who lowered it 
tenderly into the crypt. 

The last wreaths were placed by war mothers. Mrs. R. Emmitt Digney 
laid in place the token of American mothers whose sons died in the war. 
For British mothers, Mrs. Julia McCudden placed the treasured English 
flowers she brought all the way to lay at the bier. 

Then the Indian Chief, Plenty Coos, in the splendor of his tribal costume, 
laid his coup stick and the war bonnet from his head on the tomb. 

A crashing salvo of artillery roared. Three rolling, thundering blasts 
sounded while the long lines of troops stood at "present arms." Then 
"taps," the soldier’s requiem, sounded, to be followed by a quick booming 
of twenty-one guns, the National salute. 

America’s Unknown Hero was at rest in his majestic shrine among the 
quiet hills. He lies unknown but not unhonored nor unsung. 

Kirke L. Simpson, of the Associated Press 

PRACTICE ASSIGNMENTS 
Faulty Newspaper Diction 

The following specimens, clipped from various newspapers, vi¬ 
olate the canons of good writing. Some of the sentences are long 
and unwieldy; simplify them. Many of the words used show the 
author’s bias, and are often pompous, in bad taste, or lacking in 
specific information; find substitutes. In a dozen instances too 
many words have been used; try your hand at compactness and 
emphasis. Make any other changes that will bring improve¬ 
ment. First examine the list of words and phrases in the Appendix. 

1 . They passed up a large safe containing the bank funds and broke into 
a smaller one, getting $300 in nickels. 


56 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 


2. Attorney A. F. Goodnight leaves for Decatur tonight to confer with 
Attorney C. E. DeGroff, chief counsel for Rev. Hugh Smith, concerning 
the case, which will come up here next Saturday, at which time the defense 
will answer the bill of particulars filed by the prosecution last Saturday 
setting forth the points upon which they will attempt to prove their charges 
of conspiracy against the minister. 

3. After a long illness, the soul of George C. Beckner has taken its flight 
to celestial realms above, and the tired body is at rest. Mr. Beckner suf¬ 
fered for many months of an incurable ailment and on Sunday morning, 
January 6th, peacefully passed away and. a city of friends join with his imme¬ 
diate family in mourning his departure. While it was long known that this 
genial, kind-hearted old citizen could not again recover, yet his pleasant smile 
and friendly greeting was confidently looked for at his home, by those with 
whom he was wont to chat for a few moments when he was able to walk about. 

4. Disturbers, who attempted Saturday night to break up a dance at 
Mike Masaika’s hall in Spring Valley, given by the Sons of Lithuania, 
quickly found out who was running the place. When the free-for-all 
started, Mike quickly grabbed a club and began cleaning house. 

5. The fact that a cabaret performance will be given during the time of 
the dinner should make the occasion appeal to any one who are expecting 
to be hungry between noon of the twenty-second and the morning of the 
twenty-third. 

6. She passed to the great beyond January ii, 1916. 

7. Everyone in the cast enjoyed the play to which they had given so 
much of their time and enthusiasm. 

8. The only hope of the development of an understanding between the 
several nations of the world whose delegates are apparently seeking a way 
out of the costly and demoralizing program of armament that the war sug¬ 
gests is mutual friendliness, respect and assurance that each is sincere in 
its protestations of a desire for a continuation of peace and honest in its 
expression of a willingness to do its part in the consummation of such a re¬ 
lationship between governments and peoples. 

9. This game was as closely contested as is usually seen, for from the 
beginning of the game the contestants were never separated by more than 
five points, and most of the time it was two and three—but the Marietta 
boys managed to hold their lead throughout the game, but that didn’t keep 
the Marietta fans from being worried all the time and immensely interested 
in the game. 

10. The bicycle thieves also were busy for twenty-two were reported 
stolen. 

11. He analyzed the great change coming over the schools through the 
endeavoring to advance education by the Project Method. 


THE WRITER AND HIS READERS 


57 

12. Ten weary women and two worn men, exhausted by a night of tor¬ 
turing mental struggle, came slowly up the hill to the Hall of Justice today 
with the life of a man in their hands. 

13. Guy Roberts, one of the popular younger attorneys of Marietta, is 
in bed with a wound in his right thigh which will keep him in bed for a 
couple of weeks or so. It seems that he was going into Collins Brothers 
drug store Saturday night when he heard a shot behind him and had a sort 
of peculiar sensation, but he did not think of being shot and seemed to have 
no knowledge of having been shot until after he had purchased some cigars 
and then reached for his money and noticed blood. 

14. She probably had internal injuries, the shock of it all being more 
than she was able to hold up against. 

15. There was an awful mixup at a funeral in St. Joe, Mo., lately. The 
day was pleasant and so the funeral was given on an upstairs porch, which 
caved in, and the corpse, the officiating minister, mourners, guests and pall¬ 
bearers were hurled to the ground 30 feet below. 

16. The year past has been a busy one and we can safely say that the 
membership have a better feeling toward the organization than they had at 
the beginning of the year. 

17. Miss Olive Parsons, who has been under the doctor’s care, is con¬ 
valescent at present. 

18. Members of the club are to pass upon the matter soon in a ballot 
by mail, which will indicate the sentiment of the membership. 

19. Several unique and interesting Xmas programs were given in the 
local public schools last Friday morning. 

20. Having locked the barn and retired to the house, the fire in the hay¬ 
loft was not soon discovered. 

21. Many relatives and friends were present and a bountiful feast was 
spread at 11:30 and in the afternoon a quilting took place and later a 
peanut parching and music and singing and a most pleasant day was enjoyed 
by all, and everybody left happy and hoping Mr. Kendall would live to 
celebrate many more birthdays in as enjoyable a manner as this one, with 
all his children and grandchildren. 

22. The fact that Tipton’s gun was loaded with old ammunition and that 
when it was fired the powder was only powerful enough to start the projec¬ 
tile through the bore, leaving a part of it still protruding from the breach, 
stopping the mechanism and jamming the gun, is responsible probably for 
the fact that the two women are alive today, according to Motorcycle 
Patrol Sergeant Bert Lipsey, the first officer on the scene of the shooting. 

23. The annual joint maneuvers of the Atlantic and Pacific fleets which 
were to be held in Panama Bay in February and March, of this year, may 
perhaps be abandoned. 


58 ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 

24 . No one else but the mother was with the sick child at the time. 

25 . A well prepared and bountiful dinner was served, after which the 
guests, 18 in number, were taken to the theatre for entertainment. All 
thoroughly enjoyed the evening. 

26 . Tipsy, bibulous and celebrating residents, all carrying hip liquor, 
made a night of it, with the result that many a pledge was signed as the 
celebrators awoke the next day with a big head and a dark brown taste. 

27 . The first baby born at the Victory hospital was a son, to Mr. and 
Mrs. Howard Brown of 2564 Murray Avenue, North Chicago, which ar¬ 
rived at 12 :30 a.m. 

28 . The actions caused the authorities to investigate, it being charged 
that when he heard about his house being on fire didn’t even go near it and 
seemed to be unconcerned. 

29 . Attorney W. R. Damon has turned over the deed, which will be ac¬ 
cepted by the board tonight, which will in turn pay the approximately 
$9,000, the amount representing what James E. Bishop advanced on it 
during the life of the Damons, and also the court costs in establishing 
ownership. 

30 . The conflagration began on Friday, and efforts to extinguish the blaze 
proved stubborn until all entrances to the level were closed and the fire 
allowed to smother. 

31 . Bandits, numbering more than twenty, today overpowered five 
guards at the Blue Bottle Distillery here, locked them in the office of the 
plant, and looted the distillery of over 300 cases of the best bonded whiskey. 

32 . He found Miss Smith lying face down on the floor, her body stiff 
in death. 

33 . Private watch night parties didn’t break up until the wee hours. 
Society folk, who attended the Bonor ball, scattered into private parties 
for the evening’s windup. Clubs gathered their usual quota. It was a 
gay and gorgeous night. 

34 . Turning back the pages of history Mr. Cooke told how both of them 
had studied law in a loft at night by flickering candle-light. 

35 . The acceptance of the Upton estate, located at the north end of 
Green street, for park purposes, the wish of the Uptons, means that the 
city acquires for a park one of the most beautiful properties in the entire 
city, and the expense to the city is less than one-fourth its actual worth, it 
being estimated that this tract is worth beween $40,000 and $50,000. 

36 . There were five lacerated wounds in Mr. Buxton’s scalp, from one 
to two and a half inches long, several punctures of the scalp, his fourth 
and fifth right ribs were broken, one of his wrists was fractured, one finger 
cut off, besides multiple contusions of the body, and a probable fracture at 
the base of the skull. 


THE WRITER AND HIS READERS 


59 

37. These points are on the program for the development in the schools 
to enliven and create the proper influences about the child to be original 
and think for himself rather than to be automatic and be an iron man run 
by machinery. 

38. After the meal, with President Starrett presiding in his usual ca¬ 
pable manner, took place the election of president. 

39. This show was formally opened on Wednesday with a splendid open¬ 
ing day attendance, and each succeeding day showed an increase, the best 
of these, however, was Thursday, when more than 1200 people jammed 
the large auditorium. 

40. Kiddies had a whizz-bang good time at the Woman’s Club party 
given Wednesday afternoon. The grown-ups also enjoyed the occasion, 
which is an annual affair with the Club. 

41. Our Hastings High Girls’ basket ball team came home from their 
Grand Rapids game with the "Y. W.” team there Monday night in a very 
jubilant frame of mind, for they had the one to the good side of the 25 to 
26 score in the closely contested game that was played. 

42. No other city in Illinois has done more along this line than has 
Princeton. 

43. Within a short space of time after entering the woods, Dr. Huff 
paused to rest with his thumb over the mouth of the barrel of his gun. 

44. The next Brotherhood meeting will no doubt be one of the best for 
the year. It will be addressed by Dr. Voelker, the new president of Olivet 
College, and one of the state’s best speakers. He is a very gifted man, and 
will give a message which everyone will be glad to hear. 

45. These have been the most dangerous crossings in the city and it is 
a very good thing that North Shore Company have put extra caution on 
them. 

46. The Adelphoi club of Christ church will hold their regular meeting 
this evening at the Parish house, which will be followed by a party. 

47. Two men were surprised by Nelson Ruffin, night policeman, when in 
the act of robbing the Denver pool and billiard room shortly after 2 o’clock 
Thursday morning, but made their escape by breaking through the plate 
glass window in the front door after the policeman tried to corner them 
from the rear, where they had entered the building. 

48. This evening at the Country club an informal dancing party will be 
held which promises to be a very enjoyable affair. 

49. President Scott speaks as an authority, based not only on his work 
with the personnel staff of the United States army during the world war 
but by reason of experience gained at the Carnegie institute of Technology, 
where mental alertness tests were perfected, and later, by his guidance of 


6o 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 


the destinies of the Scott company, a private corporation performing serv¬ 
ice of this nature for American industry. 

50. James Grace, better known in this city and vicinity as "Jim,” died 
quite suddenly and unexpectedly at his home in the first ward Sunday 
morning, aged 52 years. For many years he had been a great sufferer from 
stomach trouble, and on the day previous to his death had been up and at 
work. Deceased was born in this city and spent his entire life here. He 
was a painter and paper hanger by trade, and in his line was a workman of 
more than ordinary ability. Quiet and reserved by nature, he appreciated 
his friends and was loyal to them. 

51. Operatives who are employed by the Rochester Can Company have 
participated in the division of a $ 26,000 Christmas bonus. 

52. That is the reason why our stores are selling a large volume of goods, 
notwithstanding the general depression. 

53. Rev. Paul Atchison of East St. Louis is rapidly recovering from an 
illness which has been with him for several months. 

54. Many hundred of Atchison people will be saddened and there will 
be universal grief in the Bean lake community over the news of the sudden 
death of Mrs. Ben Bradley, who died at the Atchison hospital at n o’clock 
last night. 

55. At the present time she has seven ex-husbands. 

56. The High School jazz orchestra furnished music, which with added 
noise from the tin horns of the club members, furnished ample justification 
to forget all formality. 

57. According to the records compiled at Tuskegee Institute by the De¬ 
partment of Records and Research, Monroe N. Work, in charge, there 
were 72 instances in which officers of the law prevented lynchings. 

58. It was stated as an actual fact that there had been a falling off of 
some 2 , 000,000 bushels in white potato production in Illinois in the year 
1921 . 

59. Pink eye is visiting Mrs. Elmer Thayer and children. 

60. Some one with a knowledge of the interior of Norman Lodell’s 
poultry yard and house recently made off with two of Norm’s very best 
roosters. 

61. As a comic strip the antics of Mr. and Mrs. Jiggs may be a howling 
success, but Baker Falk of Kenosha, who claims to be Jiggs in the flesh, 
howls with pain and regret as a result of the alleged activities of his 
"Maggie,” who answers to the name of Hazel. Falk in a bill for divorce 
filed today in the circuit court here charges his wife "beaned” him with a 
stove poker Oct. 5 and that she gave him a chair for Christmas, but did it 
with such force he was all skinned up. 


THE WRITER AND HIS READERS 


61 


62. We here in Fort Atkinson should be thankful that things are as good 
as they are, for we could go to many other places, some of them not far 
distant, and find things much worse. Our factories are in operation pretty 
close to normal capacity, and although there has been a certain amount of 
hardship Fort Atkinson is nevertheless prosperous, and with an increased 
spirit of optimism times should grow better. 

63. Beloved as she was by all who knew her well enough to appreciate 
her wonderful character and her womanly qualities, her unexpected death 
will be a distressing shock to innumerable persons. The grief of the mem¬ 
bers of her family and of her neighbors in Missouri is shared by her hosts 
of friends and admirers in Atchison. Atchison people have known Mrs. 
Kidd for many years and have always had a warm spot in their heart for 
her. She was one of the best outside friends Atchison has ever had. Mrs. 
Kidd was an extraordinary woman, and there are few persons in this part 
of the country as widely known. It was said of her that she was "the 
woman who made Bean lake famous,” as she was a pioneer in the summer 
resort business at the lake. Mrs. Kidd’s grove for the last several years 
has been the most popular summer resort in Western Missouri. 

64. In the resolutions offered by the mass meeting the present county 
commissioners were commended for having "laid out a comprehensive plan, 
somewhat like the Greater Chicago plan, for development of the land now 
owned and hereafter to be acquired by the Forest Preserve District, in¬ 
cluding disposal of sewage, construction of dams and bathing beaches, 
construction of golf links and playgrounds, erection of camps for Boy 
Scouts and Camp Fire Girls, and the poor children of Chicago, construc¬ 
tion of comfort stations, driveways and paths, and the development of the 
Zoological gardens at Riverside.” 

65. Before any gasoline or kerosene filling station can be maintained or 
operated within the city limits of Northfield the owners must have a permit 
from the city council, as a result of the final passage by the council Tuesday 
evening of the ordinance relating to filling stations. 

66 . Since the eye opening exposes as regards shooting ability of the team 
in the last two games Coach Evans has been drilling his men on fast shots 
from every angle and from every position. 

67. So involved became the insanity proceedings before Judge Righeimer 
yesterday in the Psychopathic hospital, in which Miss Helen Lisne, a nurse, 
14 Platt Court, was being tried on petition of Harry Lee, a law clerk, whom 
she had accused of cruelty, that Judge Righeimer exclaimed: "There is 
lying on both sides.” 

68 . It is true that many contract severe colds and recover from them 
without taking any precaution or any treatment and a knowledge of this 
fact leads others to take their chances instead of giving their colds the 
needed attention and it should be borne in mind that every cold weakens 


62 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 

the lungs, lowers the vitality, makes the system less able to stand the next 
attack and paves the way for many more serious diseases. 

69. He has gone to Sheldon where he can be closer to the physician’s care. 

70. By the time he and others got to the house it was a mass of flames 
in the kitchen part. 

71. F. B. Dougherty and Charles Hoffman were hauling corn fodder 
Tuesday when a loaded rack turned with the men beneath; the older Mr. 
Dougherty was badly bruised and will feel the effects for some time to 
come. 

72. Governor Neff has offered the first reward offered by him since he 
has been governor for the arrest and conviction of the person or persons 
who shot and killed Constable John Funk of Van Zandt county, who was 
attempting to arrest men engaged in operating a still. 

73. The Christmas entertainments held in the local churches might be 
termed the best ever. The M. E. Church was beautifully decorated in cut 
spruce and Christmas colors, the church was filled to its greatest capacity. 
The feature of the evening’s entertainment was a playlet entitled "Santa 
Claus’s Home” and "Baby’s Male Quartet” both of which met with the 
highest approval of all present. 

74. Michael Paden, Princeton painter and decorator, and member of the 
Princeton Game and Fish Club, had a narrow escape from drowning Friday 
afternoon when a boat in which he was duck hunting on the grounds of the 
Club at Goose Pond, capsized, plunging him into the ice-cold waters of 
the lake. 

75. As the stock subscription price was $ 82.50 that first year, it is easy 
to see that the stock in the end did not cost the subscriber anything if he 
held his shares for the five-year period and he had money in addition to the 
cost. The result of that first five-year employes’ melon cutting did much 
to make all employes subscribing for steel stock keen to hold their shares 
against any temptation to sell and take a fleeting profit. 

76. All parents and the public generally are invited to attend this meet¬ 
ing, but the mothers of the county are especially invited to attend this 
lecture, which is one of the finest to be delivered in Marietta in many a day. 

77. The first impact of the train and the second crash against the box 
car completely demolished the automobile, reducing it to mere splinters 
and broken and twisted pieces of metal, and gave the victims a shock and 
injuries from which they never recovered. 

78. In opening the hall for the boys, speeches were made by Dr. I. A. 
White, and others, and the boys were ready and quick with expressions of 
approval or otherwise. 

79. There stood the airedale on the front seat guarding the car and 
ready to protect the property. 


THE WRITER AND HIS READERS 


63 

80. Prospects for a 16 ounce loaf of bread for five cents are remote as 
far as Elgin is concerned, according to local bakers, who continue to ex¬ 
plain why present prices are likely to continue for some time to come. 

81. President Scott was present, and made a speech. 

82. The service began at 11 : 30 , when Prof. John F. Gray of Carleton 
read a beautiful poem by Bryan Hooker, which, Mr. Gray explained, was 
sung to music written by the late Horatio Parker at the time of the dedica¬ 
tion in 1919 of the Yale memorial tablets in honor of the 221 Yale men who 
died in the war. 

83. With this issue the Daily Sun presents a new feature, a full page of 
news and advertising for the readers and advertisers in the southern part 
of the city, believing that this will stimulate business and be the means of 
presenting more news of interest to those in that section, as well as adding 
materially to the volume of news now to be found daily in the Sun. 

84. Professor E. F. Wilbur together with Miss Grace Stokes of the Iowa 
State Teachers College will discuss arithmetic and art in the study classes. 

85. The various company commanders have taken the necessary steps 
to have their men in readiness for an emergency. 

86 . The audience rose to their feet as one man when the alarm was given. 

87. This event marks the opening of the winter’s social activities in this 
busy organization to which the members are looking forward with interest. 

88 . Prompt action on the part of Sheriff Samuel E. Lowery last Friday 
led to the arrest here of Roy Bayes, a native of Brooks county and who was 
wanted in connection with the robbing of the State Bank of Carthage. 

89. The fire which destroyed the mattress and bedding was believed to 
be due to cigarette smoking in bed. 

90. His life was singularly successful and his death cut loving hearts 
to the quick. 


CHAPTER IV 


GATHERING THE FACTS 

§ 1 

THE LOCAL FIELD 

Making contact with news. A stirring scene in a recent moving- 
picture film represents a reporter hidden behind a screen in the 
office of a political boss at the moment when he is instructing his 
henchmen how to jam a street-car franchise through the city coun¬ 
cil. The reporter has been admitted to the office by the politician’s 
stenographer, who happened to be the fiancee of the reporter. The 
film shows him taking exhaustive notes of the proceedings, in 
preparation for a "scoop” that will rock the city to its foundations. 

Such a representation of a reporter brings amusement to any 
real newspaperman. Not only does the episode do violence to the 
professional code of honor of any self-respecting reporter, but it 
also gives an entirely false idea of how a newspaper secures its 
facts. News is seldom uncovered so easily or so dramatically. 
Generally it must be sought diligently and verified carefully. 
Gathering the facts is for the most part hard work, not a series of 
romantic eavesdropping episodes. 

In a newspaper office nothing is haphazard. All the avenues 
that skill and invention have created for the conveying of thought, 
verbal speech, mail, pneumatic tube, telegraph, telephone, wire¬ 
less, radio, and other agencies, are made to serve the newspaper. 
Neither is much of the news that finds its way into print to be 
credited to luck and accident, much less to a mysterious seventh 
sense, or any other occult, uncanny process. Gathering news is the 
result of a system and of a network of machinery stretching out 
from the editor’s desk to the remotest parts of the world. 

The city editor and the news. At the center of this network of 
news-gathering agencies is the city editor, a man who injects or- 

64 


GATHERING THE FACTS ' 


65 

ganization into the office and makes possible the swift chronicling 
of news. He is the first personality the young reporter encounters 
when he takes his job; he is also the man who gives the reporter 
notice that his services are no longer required. 

The city editor must have an eager flexibility of mind that in¬ 
stantly detects news, plus the resourcefulness of a field general in 
marshaling his reporters for the effective gathering and writing of 
that news. To the function of a business executive he must add 
the ability to make a correct diagnosis of what is important news 
and what trivial, so that one story may be played for all it is 
worth, the other packed in a few sentences. If his paper does not 
get the news, the city editor must answer to his superiors, just as 
the reporter must answer to him. 

Robert M. Lee, city editor of the Chicago Tribune, thus com¬ 
ments upon the work of this important post: 

Each newspaper day is a complete cycle. Each twenty-four hours tells 
its story, banks the fires, winds the clock, and goes to bed. Nothing is so 
old tp the newspaperman as yesterday’s newspaper. . . . The newspaper 
business is serious business. Don’t get the idea that it is conducted by a 
collection of irresponsibles who go charging about without mode or reason 
to publish, at prodigious cost, inconsequential and childish utterances. 
Every person on a newspaper has a direct mission and purpose. Every one 
is under direction. Newspapermen are bound by rules and must work 
under authority ; they must not let their temperaments run away with them. 

Keeping tab on news. It is a matter of mystery to those unac¬ 
quainted with newspaper work to find how rapidly an item of 
news, or at least the hint of it, finds its way to the paper. No paper 
employs as many reporters as it can use. Certainly none covers 
every possible source of news. This information, then, comes in 
through innumerable channels. And it is in creating and main¬ 
taining these avenues of information, dubbed "pipe lines,” that 
the city editor most splendidly serves his paper. In a lesser degree 
each reporter is an assistant editor, with eye and brain alert to 
every news possibility. 

The details of this system of news-gathering are delicate, often 
intangible, but are nevertheless real and sure. The city editor will 
establish relations with all important news sources, including in¬ 
dividuals and organizations. He will cultivate the acquaintance 


66 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 

of doctors, business men, ambulance drivers, lawyers, preachers, 
commercial secrefaries, teachers, publicity agents, managers of 
hotels and theaters, police sergeants, city and county officials, poli¬ 
ticians, and the like. Any of these may have a news item, but at 
such rare intervals that no regular system of calling upon them is 
feasible or desirable. The list has numerous extensions—labor 
unions, lodges, boards of control, church societies, philanthropic 
institutions, social clubs. 

To win this large corps of assistants requires infinite patience 
and resourcefulness. No matter how busy, the city editor must 
always give a pleasant greeting. If the interruption be ever so 
great an intrusion, he will not let the visitor see his annoyance or 
feel personal embarrassment. No matter how foolish the question 
he is called to the telephone to answer, he will, if wise, reply in 
such a way as to encourage the same person to call again. Thus 
he lays the foundation of an extended acquaintance. Again, the 
position of city editor makes possible a great variety of small 
favors, and these, if properly distributed, place the recipient under 
obligations that return in news many times the cost and effort 
expended. 

This very fact, of course, brings with it a train of responsibili¬ 
ties. The city editor is constantly beset by persons who wish some¬ 
thing kept out of the paper that ought to go in, or something put 
in that ought to be left out. In proportion as he is able to send 
each person away kindly disposed is he building up his paper and 
adding to his usefulness. Courtesy, dispatch, consideration, and 
accuracy nowhere have greater value than at the city editor’s desk. 

Reporters on their beats. For his main line of defense the city 
editor first relies upon what are usually called runs, or beats. The 
run, or beat, is some definite point or series of points, daily produc¬ 
ing so much news that the paper is warranted in having a man 
make his rounds regularly. The runs vary in number and in char¬ 
acter with the community. To this class, however, belong the 
courthouse, the police station, the statehouse if the paper is in a 
state capital, the city hall or other municipal headquarters, Fed¬ 
eral buildings if the city contains them, the headquarters of the 
city school system, the hotels, the wharves if the city has a water 
front, the chamber of commerce, the board of trade, and others. 


GATHERING THE FACTS 


67 

In cities of one hundred thousand or more one man’s time is 
usually completely occupied at police headquarters, another’s at 
the courthouse, and a third’s at the city hall. These men are often 
called department men and perform the same function day after 
day. They reach the office but seldom, and as they are trained 
men for the most part they work with little direction from the 
city editor. 

The other places are grouped, from two to a dozen, according 
to their importance and distance apart, and a reporter is assigned 
to cover them regularly. Some papers pay marked attention to 
one kind of news and others to a different sort. The city editor 
takes all these things into consideration in assigning his men to 
their routes. 

Many papers feel that more news is secured by delegating the 
same man to call at the same places each day; thus he forms 
friendships and informs himself minutely on all that goes on there. 
Other papers insist that a good reporter should know a news item 
whenever and wherever he sees it, that he should be reasonably 
familiar with everything occurring in the city and be able to fit in 
wherever required. Indeed, some papers call these reporters "gen¬ 
eral utility” men. Stationing his scouts is a question each city 
editor must answer according to his own judgment and his ex¬ 
perience in getting results. For the most part the practice favors 
the former. 

The story of a robbery. The methods used by a reporter sta¬ 
tioned at police headquarters may be taken as typical of the every¬ 
day activities of men on beats. The daily record of arrests, 
complaints, and reports, compiled by the police department and 
released for publication, shows that a robbery has occurred in a fur 
store and that a group of detectives was called out in response to 
a burglar alarm. This memorandum is nothing more than a tip, 
but it is very useful because it contains names, addresses, and de¬ 
tails which may be utilized in running down the complete story. 
So the reporter, stationed in the press cubby-hole at police head¬ 
quarters, consults the telephone directory, finds the number 
wanted, and proceeds to round out the facts. The conversation 
between the reporter and several individuals who know about the 
robbery may run in this fashion: 


68 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 


Q. Is this Main 2360 ? 

A. Yes, Pierce and Company, fur store. 

Q. At 218 West Twenty-eighth street? 

A. Yes. Who is it you want ? 

Q. I’d like to speak to Mr. Pierce. 

A. Mr. Pierce has not come down yet. 

Q. Well, may I speak to the general manager, then? 

A. Wait a minute. I’ll connect you with Mr. Ross. (She does so.) 

Q. Hello, Mr. Ross. This is a reporter for the Daily News. I want to find 
out about the robbery in your store last night. Can you tell me about it ? 

A. Well, how did you hear about that ? What do you want to know ? 

Q. How many dollars’ worth of furs were stolen ? 

A. Our invoice shows about $ 10 , 000 , mostly neckpieces. 

Q. Did you have burglar insurance ? 

A. Sure thing. 

Q. Well, how about the expensive stuff, seal coats, and high-priced 
skins ? Did the robbers get any of them ? 

A. No. They didn’t touch our best stuff. Guess they were scared away 
too soon. 

Q. By passers-by ? 

A. Oh, no, by the detectives. We had a burglar alarm at the front of 
the store, connecting us with police headquarters four blocks away. When 
the signal went off the cops came on a hurry-run. I guess the robbers 
must have scented trouble, though, and so they beat it in an automobile. 
I guess they had a look-out. 

Q. How did the robbers get in ? 

A. Jimmied the front door. 

Q. Is this the first time you’ve had a robbery ? 

A. No. They tried to get in by the roof only last week. 

Q. By the roof ? How’s that ? 

A. Oh, we found they’d put up a tent on the top of the building and were 
sawing a hole under it right through the roof. We’d just got in a new ship¬ 
ment of sables worth about $ 85 , 000 . 

Q. Did they get anything that time ? 

A. No. We still have the furs. Burglar alarm saved us that time, too. 

Q. Well, how did they get away so quickly after the burglar alarm 
went off ? 

A. Probably had a car ready outside, and somebody on the lookout. 

Q. Have there been any other robberies in your neighborhood lately? 

A. Yes. Two fur stores near here have lost goods within the last week. 

Q. Would you mind giving me their names? 

A. Well, I guess not. They are Horowitz and Son, I think at 51 East 
Tenth Street, and Billywill, on West Seventy-second; don’t recall his street 


GATHERING THE FACTS 69 

number. I don’t remember the particulars, only the robbers didn’t 
get much. 

Q. Thanks. I’ll call up the stores right away. Much obliged for the 
tip. Goodby. 

After all the information has been secured the reporter at police 
headquarters either writes his own story and sends it to the office 
by messenger, or calls the office and gives the facts to a rewrite 
man. The next edition of the paper would probably contain the 
following account of the robbery: 

Burglars last night entered the store of Pierce 
& Co., 218 West Twenty-eighth street, and stole 
furs valued at $10,000. It is believed that they 
employed a look-out and escaped in an auto¬ 
mobile. They left many thousands of dollars’ 
worth of furs behind. 

An attempt was made to rob the same place 
a week ago, when a shipment of $85,000 worth 
of sables was received, but the thieves were 
frustrated by the burglar-alarm system. De¬ 
tectives who responded found that a tent had 
had been erected on the housetop and that un¬ 
derneath it a hole had been sawed through the 
roof. Entrance last night was effected by jim¬ 
mying the front door. 

Burglars who broke into the fur establish¬ 
ment of Horowitz & Son, on the second floor 
of 51 East Tenth street last Saturday, had 
carted $8000 worth of furs to the street level 
when they were frightened and ran, leaving 
their coats hanging in the hallway. 

A week ago yesterday $3000 worth of fur 
coats and gowns were stolen by thieves who 
entered the store of Billy will Inc., 172 West 
Seventy-second street, and departed without 
being seen. 

The city editor and his assistants keep in constant touch with 
men on their beats, and beat men in turn notify the office of their 
whereabouts and of momentous news happenings that may re¬ 
quire the services of other reporters. The exchange of news tips 
is of mutual advantage. 

Trusted men on beats are expected to watch all the editions of 
local newspapers, and to clip stories that have previously devel- 




70 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 

oped on their beats and which require rewriting for their own 
papers. Some of these items give promise of late developments, 
which the reporter must include in the follow-up version of the 
incident. Each man is held responsible for everything that hap¬ 
pens in his news territory. 

Reporters on assignments. The other infallible reliance of the 
city editor is his assignment book, the "log” by which he charts 
his course. At the beginning of the year it is a blank book; at the 
end it is full of names, phrases, and dates. Whenever any event is 
announced for the future the careful city editor immediately notes 
it in his book for the day scheduled. This list includes conven¬ 
tions, public gatherings, meetings of societies, social events, law¬ 
suits, hearings before commissions, demonstrations, carnivals, 
lectures, arrival of prominent people, and all the many other 
"futures” which the public cares to know about and which cannot 
be trusted to the memory. 

As an example: a club of university men announces that Mar¬ 
shal Joffre, hero of the Marne, is to be its guest of honor at lunch¬ 
eon May 15. On the assignment book the date of the luncheon is 
entered, alongside the data on the hotel and the speaker, also the 
names of committeemen in charge. Undoubtedly reception and 
entertainment committees will be named later, the hall be spe¬ 
cially decorated, and notable guests may be invited. Each of these 
constitutes a news item and must be secured as soon as possible. 
On the day of arrival the city editor assigns a reporter to cover 
the luncheon, and delegates a photographer to take a flashlight 
of the Marshal as he rises to acknowledge the cheers of the diners. 
The city editor may also have secured in advance carbon copies 
of the principal speeches to be delivered by notable men, for 
preparedness in a newspaper office makes for better newspaper 
reports. 

From his assignment book and acting on tips received from 
other papers and from volunteer reporters who call him up, the 
city editor daily makes out his schedule for handling the day’s 
news. These assignments are to be parceled out to various re¬ 
porters when they come to the desk. These men are equipped with 
general training and experience, they know the city, and are able 
to work without detailed explanations of the kind of story wanted 


GATHERING THE FACTS 


7 i 


by the Chief. To such men fall the assignments that do not come 
under the province of any route, as well as "spot” news—acci¬ 
dents, interviews, disastrous fires, and important events of any 
sort. If, for instance, a paper is waging a campaign on prohibit¬ 
ing the promiscuous sale of revolvers, a reporter will be dele¬ 
gated to gather material on this subject and to see to it that public 
interest in the campaign does not lag through lack of information. 

Other duties of the city editor. Many city editors on metropol¬ 
itan dailies direct the work of illustrating the local news. They 
usually have at their disposal the services of a staff of camera men 
(some of them commercial photographers), as well as of an office 
artist, who makes original drawings of such subjects as cannot be 
photographed and provides decorative details for use in "laying 
out” photographs. Sometimes the cartoonist is made an ally of 
the city editor, especially in political campaigns. 

A subtle sense of all that concerns the public guides the city 
editor. His work gives him little opportunity to mingle with the 
outside world, yet his entire success depends upon knowing the 
things that interest the public and reaching out into the future, 
gauging as accurately as he may the things that are going to in¬ 
terest it. The fact that the newspaperman works half of his 
time in the future and the rest of his time on the outer line of the 
present gives his occupation the abiding fascination it possesses. 

City News Bureau of Chicago. The City News Bureau of Chi¬ 
cago is a news-gathering organization owned and supported by the 
six daily papers of the city, the Tribune, Journal, Post, Daily 
News , Her aid-Examiner, and Evening American. It aims to cover 
beats and routine news sources in order to save individual mem¬ 
bers the expense of covering them separately. The news secured 
is speedily furnished all six papers. 

The function of the Bureau is similar to other metropolitan co¬ 
operative enterprises for the collecting of local news. It bears the 
same relation to the Chicago papers that the Associated Press and 
similar wire associations bear to the newspapers of the world. 
Through the medium of the Bureau and its staff of forty reporters 
each Chicago paper is enabled to comb the entire city systemati¬ 
cally, tapping all news sources and giving added protection in 
matters of important news happenings. 


72 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 

The usual sources of news for the City News Bureau reporters 
are the police and fire stations, hospitals, morgues, and general 
gathering places in the districts assigned to them, as well as the 
main beats covered by the papers themselves. By this system 
each Chicago paper relies on the Bureau for the ordinary police 
news and tips which it can follow up, retaining a staff of its own 
to cover only the important beats, such as the City Hall, County 
Building, Federal Building, Criminal Court Building, and Central 
Police. Political news, society items, finance, and special inter¬ 
views are ordinarily beyond the Bureau’s scope of endeavor. Such 
stories are left to the whim of the individual paper. 

A board composed of one director from each of the supporting 
papers oversees the workings of the Bureau and appoints the man¬ 
ager, who directs the organization. Under the manager are edi¬ 
tors, corresponding to the city editors of the papers, rewrite men, 
copy-readers, and mimeograph operators. 

The reporters give their news by telephone to the rewrite men, 
who write the stories on stencils in newspaper style. The stencils 
are copy-read, as is typewritten copy on a newspaper, and the sten¬ 
cils placed on the mimeographs. Copies are run off for each paper, 
including one for the Associated Press and the office files, and a 
tube system conveys the stories to the papers in quick time. On 
important stories, or sudden new developments of a running story, 
a bulletin lead is written on an ordinary typewriter and sent to the 
switchboard operator, who telephones it to all the papers by pri¬ 
vate wires from the Bureau. Full details follow by tube later. 

City News Bureau reporters, each assigned to a district, are held 
responsible for the news happenings in their districts. Every 
scoop scored against a reporter is clipped and pasted on an "alibi” 
slip, on which he must explain his failure to get the story. Too 
many scoops, and the man moves on. 

The Bureau has developed another line of service to the papers. 
Because of the necessarily low salaries and infrequent raises in 
pay, it has become somewhat of a training-school for Chicago re¬ 
porters. There is not much of a future for a reporter while on the 
Bureau. As he becomes acquainted with the city and gets an in¬ 
sight into the profession through his daily routine, he usually 
changes to a position on one of the papers. 


GATHERING THE FACTS 


73 


' §2 

STORED-UP INFORMATION 

The morgue. The library, once known as the "morgue,” is a 
time-honored institution among all newspapers. In the smaller 
offices it exists chiefly in a rudimentary form or in name, while 
with the big dailies it is one of the most highly developed and 
finely organized of the associated departments of news compila¬ 
tion. There is not wanting a certain grim appropriateness in the 
name morgue ; for originally it had to do with the dead. Today 
it is more concerned with the living, indeed may best be described 
as a repository of live information. 

Historically the morgue began when newspapers started to illus¬ 
trate their stories. Economically it grew into importance when 
what were once matters of hours came to be matters of minutes 
and finally of seconds. Newspaper illustrations cost money, and 
so when they were made they were saved instead of being thrown 
away. Frequently they were used again and again, and the picture 
of an individual received final insertion on the occasion of his 
death. Soon it was perceived that if it was handy to have his cut, 
it was equally convenient to have a bit of biography on hand. So 
newspapers began to file away short sketches with the cut of the 
person. If he died suddenly, the morgue furnished all that was 
needed in the way of clippings and pictures. 

As the manufacture of cuts became cheaper and the magnitude 
of the morgue increased, the cuts were often destroyed, and the 
photographs from which they were made were saved. Half a 
dozen photographs can be handled and managed with less trouble 
than a single metal cut. In actual practice the newspaper keeps 
the cuts of prominent men always on hand and pictures of the less 
prominent ones. The exchange editor was easily metamorphosed 
into the keeper of the morgue, or office library. 

With the growing complexity in the province of this reference 
bureau the card-index system came to be used, and even cross 
indexes are now in vogue. In a minute almost any sort of in¬ 
formation about anything desired can be secured. Not only is 
there an envelope for everyone who has ever been prominent, to¬ 
gether with photographs of him, his family, and his home, but 


74 ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 

there is information catalogued concerning disasters of all kinds, 
important conventions, wars, religious gatherings, and the entire 
range of matter that constitutes news. It is this which enables a 
newspaper with the first item about a flood, earthquake, fire, or 
robbery to give immediately a complete and accurate list of all 



THE LIBRARY OF THE DETROIT NEWS 

A modern newspaper pays close attention to the sources of information and the 
checks upon inaccuracy. A library of twenty thousand volumes, kept constantly 
up to date, and a morgue with half a million clippings and a hundred thousand 
photographs and fifty thousand engravings are thought not too much. In the 
newspaper library shown above, editorial and special writers find an inspiring 
workroom and have at their service a large staff of proficient librarians and pages 


similar catastrophes, in addition to the exact loss or damage en¬ 
tailed by each. Such data heighten news interest. 

To be a success the morgue requires constant attention. It 
is always growing. The keeper scans the papers of the entire 
world for features and bits of information to add to it. Books 
and magazines which cannot be conveniently clipped are cata¬ 
logued so that all manner of information on all sorts of subjects 
is available at a minute’s notice. Complete files of the local 








GATHERING THE FACTS 75 

papers, with news of importance in each issue indexed, are 
always available, and are frequently consulted. 

The Detroit News morgue, now known as library, contains 
about fifteen thousand volumes, and in the course of an average 
month its acquisitions are about a hundred. The books are de¬ 
signed to supply information on any subject under any emergency 
and also to furnish reading matter that is both practical and cul¬ 
tural. The most important information in the library has to do 
with uncultivated news sources, strange lands, isolated communi¬ 
ties, growing movements of significance, and recent exploration. 
Every encyclopedia of consequence is included in the library, but 
the reference department itself is the encyclopedia of greatest 
value for special or general information. A complete and analyt¬ 
ical system of indexing makes any item instantly available. 

§3 

HOW A BIG FIRE STORY IS HANDLED 

Getting the staff into action. The functions of the city editor in 
organizing his forces to "cover” a big story may be illustrated 
graphically by reference to a big Chicago fire, and the methods 
used by the news executives of two Chicago newspapers, one the 
Chicago Tribune , in the morning field, the other the Chicago Eve¬ 
ning Post , in the afternoon field, in collecting and compiling the 
news. The fire "wiped out the entire block of buildings in the 
square surrounded by Jackson boulevard, Van Buren street, and 
Canal and Clinton streets,” piling up losses second only to the 
disastrous conflagration of 1871. 

How the Tribune covered it. Because of the fact that the story 
"broke” about 1 a.m., when the night’s routine was within less 
than an hour of being completed and when most of the Tribune 
reporters had finished their work and gone home, the city editor 
of that paper had to think and act quickly. There was no time 
for bookkeeping or schedule-making; the thing was to get the 
fire story. Necessarily his first move was to obtain men and rush 
them to the scene. He began with the police reporters, then drew 
on the few staff men available at the late hour. These were sup¬ 
plemented by the rewrite battery, which remained in the office 


76 ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 

and received the news reports. The action of the story covers the 
time between, say, i and 2 a.m., although there was no relaxation 
of vigilance until 8 a.m. 

The Tribune files show that a substantial story was carried in 
the home edition, followed by the final edition, with pictures, and 
two replates on new angles. The progress of the story in detail, 
told circumstantially in the present tense about as it occurred, may 
thus be set forth: 

The first alarm sounds in the Tribune office, where alarm ap¬ 
paratus is extended. The city editor takes note that it comes 
from a crowded factory district, and he has an office boy put in a 
call for the "loop’’.police reporter who covers this territory. 

The reporter calls up to report he has noted the alarm and will 
drop over to the scene on the chance that the fire may be a big one. 

Second, third, and fourth alarms sound, and a special call fol¬ 
lows the four-eleven, summoning all available apparatus to the 
scene of the fire. The city editor instructs a reporter to summon 
the staff. As it is customary to sound a four-eleven, or even a 
special, in case a "loop” fire is in a dangerous spot, the city editor 
can wait until the police reporter sends in further particulars. 

In the meantime the City Press Association calls up over the 
private wire to inform the city editor that the fire is in the big 
Austin building and threatens to spread, adding that a fireproof 
skyscraper, the Burlington, is close by. The fire is already a big 
one, with possible large property loss. 

The "loop” police reporter calls up with first detailed bulletins 
of the fire. They contain rumors regarding a delay of the fire de¬ 
partment in reaching the scene, and of apparent low water pres¬ 
sure when the department arrives. Warning is offered that the 
fire is widespread and still going strong, menacing the fireproof 
Burlington building. The reporter is a veteran news-gatherer and 
knows a big fire when he sees one; he can be relied upon. The city 
editor now sends out all available staff men and a photographer. 

A staff man calls up to tell what he has found out. At the same 
time the City News Association "tubes” over the first mimeograph 
reports containing details its men have gathered. The city editor 
finds he can "make” the nearest edition with an initial story, in¬ 
complete but valuable. He listens to the staff man as he sketches 


GATHERING THE FACTS 


77 


the story, which confirms and amplifies the police reporter’s story, 
then turns him over to the rewrite man, who takes the report over 
the telephone just as he did previously. The rewrite man spins 
out the first story of the fire, and the edition goes to press with the 
best account that can be assembled in a few minutes. 

A City Press bulletin now arrives announcing that several 
firemen have been injured, one perhaps fatally, and that the 
"fireproof” Burlington building is ablaze. 

By this time the office is organized as follows: 

1. The city editor is the keystone figure, with his grip on every 
detail. He hears reports from the scene, scans City Press bulle¬ 
tins, weighs every detail, gives the necessary orders, maps out in 
his mind the kind of story and space required, and keeps the man¬ 
aging editor and the make-up editor apprised of developments so 
they can make provision for the story. 

2. The rewrite man is listening to telephone reports, reading 
the City Press mimeograph sheets that arrive via the pneumatic 
tubes, and generally making himself master of every detail of the 
fire, in preparation for writing the lead of the final story. 

3. Four or five staff men, including police reporters, have 
"bounded” the fire—determined its exact area and the buildings 
affected—and are gathering in every name, every detail of news, 
and every feature to be found on the scene. 

4. One or two office men are calling up owners of the buildings 
involved, real-estate agents, watch services, and other places where 
information can be gained regarding the tenants of the big build¬ 
ings, their number, and importance. There is a bank in the Bur¬ 
lington building, and depositors will be anxious to learn its fate, so 
the reporters look up this angle. They also call up the city offi¬ 
cials who can explain the low water pressure and the supposed 
fire-department delay, and they check up with traction officials 
when it is reported that a portion of the elevated-railroad structure 
has been destroyed. 

5. A photographer is on the scene of the fire, and an artist is 
drawing a diagram of the burned area. 

This arrangement, of course, is such as is typical of an emer¬ 
gency. Had the story begun to develop at 1 o’clock in the after¬ 
noon the organization might have been more extended, and 


78 ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 

individual reporters might have been assigned to cover the follow¬ 
ing specific phases as they developed: 

Dead and injured. 

Buildings and business firms affected and losses ; insurance. 

Fire cause. 

Eyewitness and survivor stories. 

Features; crowds. 

Police angles. 

Story of bank in Burlington building. 

Story of burning of elevated tracks; street-car paralysis. 

Low water pressure. 

Fire-department delay. 

Story of how "fireproof” skyscraper can be burned. 

Pictures and diagrams. 

Reverting to the emergency schedule, from nine to eleven men 
of all kinds are now on the job in the office and outside to cover all 
angles of the conflagration, for accumulating news reports show 
that it is indeed a conflagration. All manner of reports now trickle 
into the office. Tipsters (friends of the paper) call up with in¬ 
formation ; reporters send in additional facts over the telephones; 
the City News Bureau forwards more reports by pneumatic tube; 
the staff photographer arrives with his pictures. The rewrite man 
is again clicking away on the typewriter, at work on the story in 
what probably will be its final form; he pauses frequently to add 
to his information by listening to the reporters’ stories or by read¬ 
ing the City News reports. 

The story is getting bigger every minute. Already it is known 
that the "fireproof” Burlington is doomed. The flames have seized 
three more large buildings; more are going. Walls are crashing; 
men are receiving injuries; policemen are fighting the crowds; new 
alarms are sending new fire apparatus to the scene; the whole 
business and manufacturing block is enveloped in flames. Reports 
indicate the loss will be between $8,000,000 and $10,000,000. 

The city editor is now confident that he has made adequate pro¬ 
vision in men and equipment to cover every important angle that 
may develop. 

Every available rewrite man is by this time writing copy on 
different phases of the story. 


GATHERING THE FACTS 


79 


As each portion of the running story, the big lead, is finished, 
it goes to the city editor, who reads it hurriedly, and passes it to 
a copy-reader. The copy-reader edits it at his best speed, types 
it, and rushes it down to the composing room by way of the office 
boys and the copy lift. Here it is rapidly set in type. 

In the meantime other details are being assembled in copy. If 
the copy-reader who is editing the big lead is able to handle all the 
material, it is given to him, as he can cut out the duplication other 
men might pass if the work were divided. If he cannot handle all 
the matter, it is divided into distinct divisional stories and given 
to one or two other men to edit. They send it down "running,” 
in sections, just as the lead is being sent, and it also is set just as 
rapidly as it reaches the printers. 

Pictures, as soon as they arrive, are examined as to news value, 
then speeded to the engraving room to be made into cuts. 

An artist draws a diagram of the fire scene, and this is checked 
as to accuracy, then rushed to the engraving room, also to be made 
into a cut. 

The entire story is now well in hand. The extent of the loss- 
more than $10,000,000—is known; the firms affected are listed; 
it is known that a whole city block is doomed; the dead and in¬ 
jured have been compiled; it is established that the fire started 
in the Austin building, spread to an elevated station, attacked and 
burned out the Burlington skyscraper, carrying other buildings 
in its wake. 

Facts are flowing smoothly into the office over many editorial 
telephone wires; they are being rapidly converted into copy. The 
type, both text and headlines, is accumulating; the managing edi¬ 
tor has passed judgment on the entire "spread”; the cuts and dia¬ 
grams are ready; the make-up editor has completed his page 
schedules, allotted his space for every lead and subsidiary story, 
and is waiting; the printers have the page schedules. 

Now the big lead and the divisional, the picture captions and 
text, the headlines, and every other feature are in type; the copy- 
reader has put the closing dash on the story for this edition; the 
make-up editor and copy-readers go to the forms and send the edi¬ 
tion to press with a complete story of the fire filling five or six col¬ 
umns, with a layout of pictures. The "spread” of the whole story 


8 o 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 

begins in the lead position on page i, turns to page 2, fills most of 
that page, and continues on page 3. 

News reports continue to come in from reporters on the scene 
and from others; many may duplicate facts already in possession 
of the paper; many may be trivial and not worth the bother of re¬ 
plating; some will consist of "spot” news of great value, and of 
new developments, such as the rumor of a firebug’s having started 
the blaze. Replates, or even extras, are issued at once on such new 
developments as are important enough to warrant the step. 

Gradually, as the pressure of news slows up, reporters and 
others assigned to cover the fire are relieved. Finally, there is only 
one reporter left on the scene, or possibly two. They stay through 
the night, keeping constantly in touch with the office. The office 
force also is now skeletonized down to one dog watch or "lob¬ 
ster trick” man—the "sunrise editor”—and an emergency force. 
These persons can handle anything new that develops, and if they 
find themselves unable to do so they can summon the entire staff, 
rousing them from their sleep and putting them back on the job. 
In fact, they are expected to do this if matters threaten to get 
beyond control. 

The two skeletonized forces watch the fire until about 8 a.m., 
when all the afternoon papers take up the thread of the fire story, 
dress it up with a new lead, and begin printing their extras and 
regular editions. 

It is not to be understood that the rest of the news is neglected 
while the fire story is being covered. As the fire story is the big¬ 
gest one of the day, or of months, efforts are concentrated on that; 
but there is no relaxation of vigilance as to the news from the rest 
of the world. All the news is covered as it deserves and as it com¬ 
pares in value when laid beside the fire story. 

How the Evening Post handled it. Since the fire occurred after 
midnight it was almost a fresh story for the afternoon papers, 
as the early editions of the morning newspapers had not been 
able to print a complete, continuous narrative of the fire, with 
facts carefully verified. The morning accounts did not detract 
from the importance of the afternoon stories; in fact, they 
rather enhanced them, since curiosity had been aroused by the 
early bulletins. 


GATHERING THE FACTS 


81 


When the early staff men of the Post city desk got down about 
6 a.m., they found the bulletins of the fire. The first thing to be 
done was to dispatch reporters and photographers to the scene. 
To one set of reporters the city editor assigned the duty of getting 
accounts of the damage to each building burned, to see what was 
the present condition of the fire, to see how the traffic had been 
blocked, and to secure a detailed account from people who had 
seen the fire. All these facts were given to a rewrite man, to whom 
all the reporters turned in their material. Photographers were sent 
to get pictures of the fire, the firemen fighting the fire, the debris, 
and the crowds. The Post printed six pictures. 

Other reporters were sent out to find the cause of the fire. A 
man went to the city hall to interview Fire Attorney High on the 
arrests that had been made and on his suspicions as to the causes 
of the fire. The city-hall reporter got the report of Alderman 
Kostner, who said the water pressure was inadequate. He found 
out what kind of preventive equipment the buildings contained. 

The traffic was blocked by the fire. The tracks of the Douglas 
Park, Humboldt Park, and Logan Square "L” lines and the 
Aurora, Elgin, and Chicago electric railroad were destroyed at a 
vital point, a half mile west of the "loop,” so that no West Side 
trains, except the Lake street "L,” could proceed beyond Halsted 
Street. Thousands were forced to walk to work and were made 
late. A reporter was sent to get a record of this condition and to 
the "L” company’s offices to get a statement on the progress of 
repairs and how soon the service would be in order. This news 
was of great consequence to the many users of the "L.” 

The Post city editor also sent a man to secure an estimate of the 
loss. Although the authoritative estimate was not yet available, 
the estimates of the damage done by the fire ranged from 
$5,000,000 to $15,000,000. To get these figures interviews had to 
be made with the underwriters, the building owners, and with the 
tenants. Two reporters were sent to uncover this information 
and to compile the list of tenants. 

A complete list was made of the firms, individuals, and busi¬ 
nesses affected by the fire. Wherever possible the individual losses 
and the insurance were determined. The number of people out of 
positions was ascertained. 


82 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 


Reports about the casualties were gathered by another reporter. 
He secured his information from the hospitals, from facts turned 
in by men at the scene, and from the City News Bureau. One man 
was killed, and several were hurt in the fire. Since these were not 
large casualties and the only man killed was a fireman, this matter 
was of secondary importance. The names and addresses of the in¬ 
jured had to be ascertained, how they were hurt, and where they 
were taken. 

The Burlington building was supposed to be a fireproof build¬ 
ing, a skyscraper which contained all the general offices of the 
Chicago, Burlington, and Quincy railroad. It is unusual for a sky¬ 
scraper to burn, in the first place, and added interest was given to 
the fire because all the records of the great railroad company were 
destroyed and all executive officers were routed from their offices. 
This phase of the story was covered by two reporters. They found 
out how a fire could destroy a fireproof building; they interviewed 
railroad officials, architects, and experts on building. From ma¬ 
terial turned in by reporters on the scene they told what the build¬ 
ing employees had done to save the structure and how they carried 
out the records. Heroic incidents and narrow escapes had to be 
covered. They found out the effect the fire would have on the 
Burlington’s business and any details pertinent to the Burlington 
end of the story. 

A feature writer was sent out to get a story of the aftermath. 
The smoldering ruins, the crowds, the firemen still pouring on 
water, the efforts of the employees to bring food to the firemen, the 
telephone girls equipped with rubber coats going to their switch¬ 
boards, made a picture that the feature writer brought into his 
story. The scene would, of course, be familiar to anyone who had 
witnessed the fire. This fact, however, enchanced the news value 
of the story. Any spectacle that is beheld by thousands of persons 
is made more, not less, worthy of space by the public’s familiarity 
with it. 

The streets were blocked with debris. Traffic was impossible on 
the surrounding streets. Standing walls and chimneys were made 
dangerous to the passers-by. When and how the ruins would be 
cleared away was an important question, so the city-hall reporter 
was sent to interview William Burkhardt, the deputy commis- 


GATHERING THE FACTS 83 

sioner of public works, who said the debris would be removed as 
soon as the bricks had cooled sufficiently. 

The city-hall reporter was also assigned to the meeting of the 
city councilmen held that afternoon to begin an inquiry concern¬ 
ing the fire and to report their action. 

This fire involved a large money loss; it was therefore of in¬ 
terest to compare it in that respect with other large fires in 
Chicago. In property damage and loss of life it also afforded 
interesting comparisons. A second rewrite man got these figures 
from the "morgue” and wrote a separate story. 

Since it would have made too long an account to put all these 
items into one story, and as many were too important to be buried 
under the main lead, it was divided under five different heads. 

§4 

NEWS AND FEATURE SERVICES 

Pooling the news. If all newspapers were compelled to station 
reporters in every important news center at home and abroad, the 
resultant expenditure would be so mountainous as to encourage 
bankruptcy; and, besides, much duplication of effort and material 
would be the consequence. Accordingly modern newspapers have 
become clients of various cooperative press associations and news- 
feature services, and depend upon these great organizations for a 
large part of their national and international news and for spe¬ 
cial articles. 

This practice does not mean a relaxation of vigilance in the 
covering of state news through special correspondents under the 
supervision of each paper’s telegraph editor; nor does it eliminate 
special correspondents commissioned by their papers to cover 
great news happenings of national import. It does permit news¬ 
papers, in the smaller city as well as in the metropolis, to furnish 
their readers reliable and complete wire and cable stories at mini¬ 
mum cost. 

In recent years this wire and mail service has been supple¬ 
mented by syndicates engaged in furnishing their clients mats for 
the making of illustrations,—comic strips, prominent people in the 
news, news pictures, cartoons, and the like,—all of which give 


84 ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 

range and attractiveness to the newspaper’s offerings, although 
there is danger that newspapers so standardized become somewhat 
lacking in individuality and strong local appeal. A generation ago 
the work of famous correspondents gave papers more distinction. 

The more important of the news and feature services are here¬ 
with described. 

The Associated Press. The Associated Press is an association 
of newspapers in the United States, Mexico, Cuba, and South 
America which gathers and distributes news of general interest, 
domestic and foreign, collected by its members or other agents, 
including foreign-news agencies. It numbers more than thirteen 
hundred newspaper publishers as members. Each collects the 
news originating in his own territory and contributes that of gen¬ 
eral interest to other members of the association. Each newspaper 
pays its share toward the expense of the machinery which carries 
on the functions of collection and distribution of this stock of 
domestic and foreign news. 

For purposes of gathering news in this country, bureaus have 
been established at various central points, to which the associa¬ 
tion members send their news and through which news of general 
importance is circulated. The United States is divided into four 
great divisions, each in charge of a division superintendent, with 
headquarters in a large city. The Eastern Division has its head¬ 
quarters in New York; the Central, in Chicago; the Western, in 
San Francisco; and the Southern, in Washington. In all impor¬ 
tant cities there are correspondents in charge of bureaus under the 
supervision of the division superintendents. A board of directors, 
representing all sections of the country, is in charge of the admin¬ 
istration of the Associated Press organization. 

There are outside the United States news bureaus in Panama, 
Cuba, Mexico, South America, and the Hawaiian and Philippine 
Islands which collect and distribute news of their various local¬ 
ities. This service is supplemented by staff correspondents sta¬ 
tioned in foreign-news centers, special writers subject to call to 
report important events. Arrangements are made with three great 
European agencies for the interchange of news. It has been esti¬ 
mated that some fifty thousand trained news men are at the service 
of the Associated Press, either directly or indirectly. 


GATHERING THE FACTS 


85 

The Associated Press is organized on the principle of coopera¬ 
tion in news-gathering, an idea which developed at the time of the 
Civil War and was applied by New York newspapers. In its pres¬ 
ent form the Associated Press is a mutual association of news¬ 
paper proprietors, each having a voice in the management of the 
association and entitled to the news reports for publication only 
in his paper. 

The expense of the system amounts to approximately $5,000,000 
annually and is borne by the members. A weekly assessment is 
collected from each and is prorated according to the cost and vol¬ 
ume of service received. 

The membership of the Associated Press includes newspapers 
representing every shade of political, economic, and religious 
thought. The association is itself therefore nonsectarian, non¬ 
partisan, and free from the service of any special interests. If any 
taint of propaganda or favoritism in its news is even suspected by 
member papers, the association is notified immediately and the 
item is modified or stricken out. Only unbiased and truthful ac¬ 
counts of controversial happenings may be handled in its news 
reports. Both sides of a controversy are given equal representa¬ 
tion on the wires, and the doings or announcements of one side are 
not allowed emphasis at the expense of the other. In the accounts 
of strikes, for instance, every effort is made to get statements is¬ 
sued by both sides. If charges of unfairness are made, an oppor¬ 
tunity is given for replies. 

The association operates 69,432 miles of leased wires, extending 
from San Diego to Maine and from Duluth to New Orleans and 
Texas. At the more important offices the number of words re¬ 
ceived and transmitted in twenty-four hours averages more than 
60,000. Morse telegraph operators and automatic-printing tele¬ 
graph machines keep the news circulating. 

Important news furnished by association members, staff corre¬ 
spondents, or special writers is printed as "By the Associated 
Press.” All correspondents remain nameless. 

The United Press. "Today’s news today” is the slogan of the 
United Press, organized in June, 1907, by the consolidation of 
three small news agencies which were operating in the East, the 
Middle West, and the Far West, respectively. E. W. Scripps was 


86 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 

the prime mover in the new organization, which aimed to furnish 
news to those papers which did not have the Associated Press 
reports. 

The United Press has grown rapidly until now it serves some 
eight hundred newspapers on the North American continent, as 
well as twenty-four of the leading newspapers in South America, 
including the Argentine daily, La Prensa of Buenos Aires. More 
than fifty-seven thousand miles of leased wires are used daily to 
carry its full service to its clients. It is estimated that United 
Press reports are read every day by approximately ten million 
American newspaper readers. 

The United Press is organized with special bureaus in all the im¬ 
portant points in the United States and with staff correspondents 
in Europe, South America, Cuba, Mexico, Canada, the Far East, 
and Australia. Direct service has been established with the prin¬ 
cipal newspapers and agencies of these countries, so that United 
Press reports appear daily in papers all over the world. 

Among the new ideas originated and fostered by the United 
Press was the injection of human interest into press-association 
work. "It conceived its duty to be to give readers of its client 
newspapers not only the actual facts of each news event, but to go 
further and endeavor to reflect something of the atmosphere and 
color surrounding that news event.” The interview was another 
phase of press-association work which the United Press made 
popular, and the sport report in its present form was developed 
by the same organization. Another striking feature originated by 
the United Press was the Red Letter, the advance daily mail- 
feature service. The night special news-feature service, the United 
News, inaugurated in June, 1919, now serves many of the largest 
morning and afternoon papers. The opportunity for the United 
News developed because of the practice of many afternoon papers 
of putting out early morning editions. 

Until the United Press opened a direct wire service to Buenos 
Aires in 1916, South American newspapers had received their news 
of the United States by way of various European countries through 
agencies which had no connection with American news agencies. 
The United Press now maintains bureaus in the most important 
cities of South America, and through them serves the metropolitan 


GATHERING THE FACTS 


87 

and provincial papers of that continent. All United Press men in 
the South American bureaus are United States citizens and have 
been trained on American newspapers. 

In the same way the United Press also serves the independent 
Japanese news service, which sends its reports to all the news¬ 
papers of importance in Japan, the Exchange Telegraph of Eng¬ 
land, and the Australian Press Association. 

The distinction between the United Press and the Associated 
Press rests on the fact that the United Press reports are available 
to any newspaper which can pay the necessary charges for a leased 
wire and other expenses, while the Associated Press reports are 
provided to member papers only, and the association must approve 
a paper before it may become a member. 

International News Service. The International News Service, 
a corporation under the laws of New Jersey, does a news business 
throughout the world in supplying telegraph and cable news to 
evening and Sunday-morning newspapers. It undertakes to sup¬ 
ply not only world news but state and locality news, and also 
furnishes feature material and time copy. It is active as well 
in the news-picture field. 

The International News Service prides itself on its enterprise 
and vigilance. As an organization it aims to present the news of 
the day in a "spontaneous, dramatic, colorful form and at the same 
time accurately.” Emphasis is placed on sports and news with 
human-interest values; it also makes a specialty of thorough 
market reports and covers routine matters in proper proportion. 
Accounts of great news events are frequently presented under the 
signatures of distinguished writers. 

I. N. S. is supplied to some six hundred clients in the United 
States and foreign countries through its bureaus manned by 
staff men and established in thirty cities in this country and at the 
important capitals abroad. In addition there are occasional cor¬ 
respondents who write from the news centers of the world, and 
the full foreign service of the London Express, the London Star, 
the London News , the Berliner Allgemeine Zeitung, and similar 
auxiliary services elsewhere. 

The organization leases approximately twenty-seven thousand 
miles of wire to deliver its service. The principal means of trans- 


88 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 

mission is by Morse telegraph, although some of its clients re¬ 
ceive the service by automatic printer, a device which does not 
require a telegraph operator to receive the messages. 

NEA Service, Inc. NEA Service, Inc., then under the name of 
Newspaper Enterprise Association, began twenty years ago to 
supply features to Scripps-McRae newspapers, now the Scripps- 
Howard newspapers. The service attracted the attention of edi¬ 
tors outside the Scripps-McRae circle, and the client list was 
gradually expanded until today NEA is serving papers in all 
sections of the United States and in several foreign countries. 

For its operations NEA Service, Inc., has chosen the feature 
field, where it aims to embellish and supplement the wire and 
local news stories by means of "features” interpreting the hap¬ 
penings of the hour. Operating from bureaus in New York, Wash¬ 
ington, London, Cleveland, Chicago, San Francisco, and other 
points, artists, writers, editors, and photographers search the globe 
for interesting material which may be illustrated. Information 
thus gathered is dispatched to production plants in New York 
and Cleveland, where it is sifted, edited, and prepared for distri¬ 
bution. Sheets 16 x 22 inches are made up and printed every day 
in these plants and are immediately mailed, together with mats of 
all illustrations, to newspapers subscribing to the NEA service. 

In addition to feature news stories and pictures, the daily pack¬ 
ages of NEA material include departmental matter, such as strips 
for the comic page, articles for the woman’s page, editorials and 
cartoons for the editorial page, and special features for the sport¬ 
ing section. On holidays NEA papers are provided with special 
art work and articles appropriate to the occasion. Serial novels 
are also included in the service. 

"Ideas and hunches are the backbone of NEA,” says a member 
of the organization. Staff men and women produce stories which 
have first been planned by editorial executives. Every effort is 
made to anticipate events and provide clients with advance matter. 

Special services. Minor news and information services devoted 
to the dissemination of facts relating to specialized interests— 
labor, the League of Nations, agriculture—have sprung up in the 
United States. Metropolitan newspapers also make a practice of 
selling news to others outside the competitive field. 



Service 




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RANGE OF SYNDICATE SERVICE 

Syndicate service allows newspapers to publish, simultaneously and at a moderate 
cost, pictures, features, serials, and cartoons of universal interest. Pictures and 
cartoons please the readers and also facilitate make-up of the newspaper page. 
Mats are supplied which can be used to cast stereotype cuts 


















































go 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 

§5 

LIBEL 


A case of libel. Smallpox, let us say, is reported as the cause of 
a death at one of the leading hotels just prior to a convention. 
This report is printed in a newspaper of large circulation. The 
coroner, however, finds that the death was not due to any conta¬ 
gious disease. The hotel management in this case has lost con¬ 
siderable business because of the report, and would very likely file 
a suit against the newspaper for damages. 

Unless there were special circumstances of justification, the 
newspaper would be liable for having published this false report 
to the injury of the hotel. 

The foregoing case, with its implied penalties due to blundering, 
is sufficient to show that reporters and copy-readers ought to know 
the fundamentals of libel, so that their newspaper may be spared 
the expense of defending itself in court. 

Libel is the willful and wrongful publication in permanent and 
visible form of some matter tending to disgrace or degrade an¬ 
other, or to render him ridiculous in the eyes of the community. 
According to law every person has certain rights, one of which 
is the right to reputation. Reputation, according to William C. 
Robinson, leading law authority, relates not only to moral charac¬ 
ter and integrity of conduct but also to physical and mental capa¬ 
bilities. "Thus,” says Robinson, "it is an injury to reputation to 
say an attorney is ignorant, a physician unskillful, an artisan in¬ 
competent or careless, and if such statements cause pecuniary loss 
and are not justifiable by the case, the utterer is liable in damages.” 

To charge falsely that a man is a "liar” or that he is "fit for the 
lunatic asylum” would constitute actionable language and would 
be a basis for libel. 

To charge a person falsely with crime brings a newspaper within 
the definition of libel. 

Three defenses against libel. There are three general defenses 
to libel. The first is to prove that the published information is 
true (such a defense is called a justification); the second is to show 
that the publication is privileged; the third is to prove that the 
circumstances connected with the publication show that such pub- 


GATHERING THE FACTS 


9i 

lication was not malicious and was provoked by the conduct of 
the person who considered himself injured. 

Truth is generally regarded by the courts as a complete defense, 
especially in civil cases for damages, although under some con¬ 
stitutional provisions truth is said to be a defense to an action for 
libel when spoken in good faith and for justifiable ends. 

Libel may constitute also a crime as well a civil wrong. Pros¬ 
ecutions for criminal libel are not so very common, and there is 
a tradition that convictions are hard to obtain. Nevertheless the 
reporter should know that a possible prosecution by the public 
authorities may follow the publication of a libel as well as a suit 
for damages by the individual injured. 

Criticism of a book, a play, or a work of art is regarded as a 
privileged communication. A play given before the public is a 
matter of public interest. A dramatic critic, therefore, could criti¬ 
cize the plot and the players and still be within his rights, for such 
a criticism is privileged, but the critic must not confuse the person¬ 
alities of the playwright or the actors with the work of the artist. 

Truth the best defense. The principle back of all defenses in 
libel suits lies in the endeavor to show absence of malice. To be 
safe, the newspaper publisher must be sure that everything of a 
defamatory character printed in his columns is either the truth or 
a privileged communication. In covering trials the reporter is not 
free to write whatever he thinks about the trial; his work is pro¬ 
tected when he sends to his paper accounts of only such legal 
proceedings as have been started in court, when his account is a 
testimony of witnesses, when he knows where he can find official 
accounts to substantiate his story in every particular. 

It is well for the young reporter to give defamatory reports only 
when he can sustain them either as an eyewitness or when he has 
seen proof before writing his story. Libel ought to be prevented 
if possible; but if suit is brought against the newspaper, the best 
defense is to produce evidence that the story is true. 

In brief, watch the following pitfalls that result in libel: 
humorous references to physical and mental defects; misleading 
headlines; unproved accusations of crime; false reports of business 
failure; inaccurate names, addresses, and places; reflections on a 
woman’s good name; indecent and profane allusions. 


92 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 


Instructions to Reporters on Beats and 
Assignments 


Don’t guess. Know. 

Honor the tipster. 

Carry out the instructions of the city editor. 

Get the story you are sent for—and a couple more. 

Build up and respect your sources of news. 

Avoid "it is rumored,” "it it said.” State your authority. 

Always get names in full, and be sure of the correct spelling. 

Keep in touch with the office. 

Don’t be afraid to consult the city directory. 

Faking is a newspaper misdemeanor; don’t be guilty of it. 

Cultivate rapidity in the gathering and writing of news. 

A reputation for accuracy is worth dollars and cents. 

Beware of the press agent. Much of his material needs to be cut or 
rewritten. 

Be sure of your facts and don’t accept gossip and rumors, especially 
about women. 

Cultivate your friends. A chance hint may put you on the track of a 
fine story. 

Get all the facts you can. It is easier to throw away what is not needed 
than it is to find your subject a second time. 

Don’t be particular about your meals when you are on the scent of a 
story that may get away from you. 

Most papers want as many pictures as they can get. When you are on 
the lookout for news, keep your eye on pictorial possibilities. 

If you have to take someone’s word for a thing, be sure to state that 
fact in what you write. Always place the responsibility where it belongs. 

Be very careful about titles to which anyone may have a right; also 
about the relation any one person in your story may bear to someone else. 

Always get street addresses, and be sure that they are complete and cor¬ 
rect. The person who is incidental at the outset may become a primary 
actor a few hours later. 

Never forget that while working on some simple story you may uncover 
a big one. While you keep your senses concentrated on the subject in hand, 
be alert to all others. 

The biggest stories do not come from the biggest people. The dismissed 
maid or the dissatisfied policeman may give you information that the head 
of the house or the chief of police thinks he can hide from you. 

Be frank in your ignorance. If you are gathering facts concerned with an 
event or subject of which you have little real knowledge, seek the coopera¬ 
tion of people who do know. They will usually be glad to explain matters. 


GATHERING THE FACTS 93 

Never assume any portion of your story is true until you are sure. Get 
both sides. If you have to interview a man accused of crime, treat him 
as though he were the victim, and tell him you want his side of the story. 
If it doesn’t harmonize with the other man’s, that isn’t your fault. 

It frequently happens that a good story may be secured when the man 
who recites it does not know you are a reporter. In this event it is best not 
to ask too many questions. Be a good listener. A sympathetic attitude will 
warm many a man into fluent speech. 

Make your memory a walking-stick, not a crutch. Almost every man 
grows awkward and cautious once a reporter’s notebook is pulled on him 
and he is made to realize he is being quoted word for word. Important 
facts may be jotted down after you leave the man who has given the 
information. 

Ask direct questions when a man tells you "there is no news.” Many 
people do not know news when they see it; in other cases they forget when 
not prodded into recollection. 

Don’t give all your information to other newspapermen or disclose 
the source of your information. An "exclusive” story is better than a 
"rewrite.” 

Don’t be discourteous to your informant. Keep your temper even when 
people slam the door in your face. Above all don’t let your disgruntled 
feelings creep into your story. 

Make a daily practice of reading your stories in print, so that you may 
profit by changes made in copy. 

When a man who has information is busy, don’t begin with tedious cross 
questioning. Come to the point immediately and give the impression that 
you are busy too. He may answer your questions to get rid of you. 

When the principals of a story are too excited to talk, question the 
children of the household—especially in case of a sudden accident. 
They are more likely to tell a straight story and to be less unstrung by 
circumstances. 

Be cautious of the man who has an ax to grind or who may have a 
grudge against a certain person or institution. Countless libel suits have 
resulted because of too implicit trust in men who want to get even through 
the paper. 

When you can see a man face to face, don’t use the telephone. It causes 
misunderstanding and inaccuracy, owing to poor articulation and a desire 
to hide the truth. It often happens that a man "hangs up” a receiver in 
a reporter’s ear when he does not desire to answer a question. Much can 
be interpreted by the expression of the face and by characteristic gestures. 

Reporting possesses the fascination of novelty, but it also entails tre¬ 
mendously hard work. If writing under pressure yields you the absorbing 
interest that nothing else does, you are facing a happy experience as a 
reporter. 


94 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 
PRACTICE ASSIGNMENTS 

Problems in News-Gathering 

1 . The city editor of an afternoon newspaper receives a postcard carry¬ 
ing the news of the elopement of two prominent young people. The wed¬ 
ding is said to have taken place in Crown Point, Indiana. The card is 
signed with the name of a young business man said to be a close friend of 
the groomsman. Would you print the announcement as received ? 

Relate the same inquiry to a birth announcement similarly received by 
the city editor. 

2 . The city editor of a morning newspaper receives a telephone tip 
shortly before the ii p.m. deadline, telling him that a shooting has oc¬ 
curred at Broad and Parkview avenue, six miles from the newspaper office. 
The report is that an unidentified man has been killed by a foreigner, fol¬ 
lowing a dispute over the price of home brew. How would a reporter pro¬ 
ceed to verify and print the information ? 

3 . Bob Dorgin, formerly policeman, now in charge of a private detec¬ 
tive bureau, comes into the newspaper office with a story that he has 
brought about the arrest of a young bank teller charged with misappropriat¬ 
ing $20,000. He said that he had received a wire from his agents to the 
effect that the teller was under arrest at Atlanta, Georgia. Detective 
Dorgin wants the information printed the next day in the newspaper, to¬ 
gether with his own picture and the picture of the young man. He, the 
detective, says he is working under directions of a surety company. How 
much of this story would the newspaper print and how would the reporter 
proceed in assembling the facts? 

4 . You as a reporter are asked to gather information concerning a wage 
dispute between the printers’ union and the organization of print-shop em¬ 
ployers. Each of these groups is holding a secret meeting of its own. The 
publicity agent of the employers gives you a statement, but you are unable 
to get any of the union printers to talk. In fact, your request for informa¬ 
tion is curtly refused. How would you proceed in gathering facts for 
the story? 

5 . A fire breaks out in a moving-picture theater, causing severe injuries 
to the operator in the steel projection box and also a near panic in the 
audience. The coolness of the manager of the picture house in directing 
the audience to exits prevents a tragedy. A general alarm brings six fire 
companies to the scene of the fire. After the fire has been put out, the 
chief tells you that the proprietor of the theater has violated the fire ordi¬ 
nance, that the theater is a fire hazard. You know that the moving-picture 
house takes liberal space for advertising in your newspaper and that unde¬ 
sirable publicity will probably cancel the advertising contract. What would 
you do with the story ? 


GATHERING THE FACTS 


95 


6. A woman with whom you are well acquainted comes into the office 
to see you and tells you a story of her husband’s cruelty and misdemeanors, 
asking that you print that she is about to sue him for divorce. Would you 
accede to her request and air her grievances in the paper next day ? 

7 . If an intimate friend on your beat gives you information which you 
know is advertising, how would you proceed in order not to offend him or 
close the source of information ? 

8 . What leading questions could be asked by a young reporter, covering 
his beat for the first time, which would be most likely to draw out interest¬ 
ing information from the men he sees ? Is there any way for a reporter to 
fortify himself with necessary facts before he sees officials on his beat ? 

9 . You as a reporter are asked by the city editor to get a story in which 
a woman shoplifter is concerned. Acting on instructions from the city 
editor, you seek a close friend of the woman, who refuses to give you her 
picture. While she is not looking, however, you manage to steal a picture 
from the table. Is this practice justifiable on the ground that it is jour¬ 
nalistic enterprise? 

10 . If another paper in the afternoon field prints an exclusive story from 
your beat, what would be your attitude toward the treatment of this story 
in your own newspaper ? 

11 . How would you gather and write the facts of a disastrous thunder¬ 
storm that strikes the city about 6 o’clock in the afternoon? Indicate the 
news sources and how you would work with them, keeping in mind that 
you are working for a morning newspaper. 

12 . You as a reporter are assigned to cover an important meeting as a 
part of your assignments for the-evening. Your schedule is somewhat up¬ 
set, and you are late in reaching the assembly hall. The audience has gone 
home, and the lights are out. How would you proceed to get the facts ? 

13 . You as a reporter receive a telephone tip that a prominent business 
man riding in an automobile has been struck by a street car. When you 
arrive on the scene of the accident you find evidence that nothing unusual 
has happened. How would you proceed to verify the rumor ? 

14 . The chief of police tells you that a noted bootlegger has been ar¬ 
rested, but asks you to hold out the story, in order to make the trapping 
of the bootlegger’s confederates easier. What will you, as a police re¬ 
porter, do? 

15 . A public official of minor importance who is resigning his position 
to go into business gives you the story of his resignation and offers you a 
ten-dollar bill with the suggestion that you write up a "nice little piece” 
about him for the paper next day. Do you ? 

16 . What would you do if a murder is committed in room 13 in a promi¬ 
nent hotel ? The hotel proprietor, who is an advertiser in your newspaper, 


96 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 


says the publicity will hurt the hotel and influence public patronage. He 
refuses to give you any particulars of the murder. In fact, he says no 
murder has occurred. How would you proceed ? 

17 . A university student has an altercation with his landlord over a 
check returned from the student’s bank, marked "no funds.” Friends of 
the student make good the amount, and no report is made to the police. 
You uncover the information. Will you make a story of it for your paper ? 

18 . Would you as a reporter suppress the names of restaurants, hotels, 
and department stores where arrests have been made for burglary, theft, 
and misconduct ? 

19 . An official in charge of the Associated Charities who happens to be 
on your beat gives you a typewritten statement on the work done by the 
organization during the past year. He asks you to print it just as it is 
written or else not print it at all. He is a good news source. What 
would you do ? 

20 . If a farmer’s wife is suffering from a serious mental disorder and it 
is necessary to take her to an asylum in the city, would you print the story 
if the farmer requested you not to do so ? 

21 . You as a reporter are asked to get a story about a plumber who has 
been seriously burned while looking for gas leaks with a lighted candle. 
The accident occurred late in the afternoon, and the man is in the hospital, 
with little hope for his recovery. Your paper goes to press at midnight. 
How would you proceed to bring the latest developments, possibly death, 
into your story ? 

22 . What would you do in handling the report of the death of a promi¬ 
nent young woman when all evidence points to suicide, with an unrequited 
love affair as the cause of it ? Members of the immediate family repudiate 
such a suggestion. 

23 . How would you go about to compile a column of news concerned 
with society activities, women’s interests, more or less personal news ? 


CHAPTER V 

THE STRUCTURE OF A NEWS STORY 


Technique of telling the news. Relatively few newspaper read¬ 
ers realize that there is a distinctive technique attaching to the 
construction of a news story, radically different from that of a 
novel, sermon, or essay. Indeed, there are not a few newspaper¬ 
men whose instincts tell them how to shape a story but whose 
minds are not sufficiently discriminating to test the plan on which 
the story is built. 

Almost every day the city editor is brought face to face with 
amazing unfamiliarity with newspaper practices. A member of 
a woman’s club may drop into the office with a long, carefully writ¬ 
ten account of recent club activities, beginning with a formal, 
high-flown introduction and ending with the fact that the club had 
voted to issue bonds for the purchase of a community resthouse. 
When the cut and rearranged article appears in the paper the sec¬ 
retary protests that ruthless liberties have been taken with her 
manuscript. She does not realize that the editor has given the 
story interest and compactness, thus attracting readers who never 
would have glanced at the original. 

Then there is the problem of the cub reporter, who has taken 
college courses in English literature and descriptive writing, and 
is of the opinion that he knows how to produce impressive compo¬ 
sitions on every subject. Such a journalist has not a little to un¬ 
learn as well as much to learn. Practical newspaper experience 
will inform him of the fact-telling function of newspaper writing 
and will, besides, teach him to estimate the length and proportion 
his story shall take. 

The telegraph editor meets a similar difficulty with the flam¬ 
boyant correspondent covering news in a small town. It requires 
time, observation, and training to teach an out-of-town reporter 
the value of the local incident when contrasted with other items 
published in newspapers. 


97 


98 ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 

Misconceptions just enumerated would not exist had the young 
reporter and the newspaper reader given serious thought to the 
structure of a conventional newspaper story. The preacher, the 
novelist, the out-of-town correspondent, usually follow the conver¬ 
sational method of unwinding their impressions and observations, 
reserving the climax for the end. The experienced reporter, on the 
other hand, virtually reverses the process by fastening the out¬ 
standing feature into the introductory sentence. He attempts to 
transmit his news swiftly, conscious of his obligation to convey in¬ 
formation to hurried and eager readers. 

The first commandment. The first commandment in the dec¬ 
alogue of the newspaperman is to state the gist of the facts in the 
opening paragraphs, so that the essentials may stand out as boldly 
as a house on a hill, with as much economy of time and space as is 
consistent with interest. Once he has struck the keynote and con¬ 
centrated the whole series of events within a single paragraph, he 
proceeds to add relevant details and particulars. There is none of 
the improvising of the musician searching for his theme; the 
theme is struck surely, unhesitatingly, at the outset, so that the fin¬ 
ished production may achieve singleness of effect. 

Plotting the story’s curve. A critical glance at a well-constructed 
newspaper story will make clear the plan of development as sug¬ 
gested. Examine the following story: 

Seymour, Ind., May 23.—Frank Hawn, of 
this city, and his daughter, Mrs. Ocie Hawn 
Newberry, of Hartford City, were reunited 
Sunday after a separation of twelve years, 
during which time neither knew of the where¬ 
abouts of the other. 

Some time ago Mr. Hawn learned that his 
daughter was living in Hartford City. When 
he arrived there he was told that his daughter 
had gone to Sunday school. He approached 
the church and some one pointed out a young 
woman who was leaving the building as Mrs. 
Newberry. 

DAUGHTER RECOGNIZED HIM 

"Do you know who I am?” asked Hawn, 
as he approached her. 

"Yes, sir, I do. You are my father,” ex¬ 
claimed the happy daughter. 


1. An immediate and brisk 
announcement of the central 
feature of the story, including 
answers to the questions Who? 
When ? Where ? Why ? and What ? 


2. Background necessary to 
a complete understanding of 
the news. 


3. See how subheads and fre¬ 
quent paragraphs bring sunlight 
between solid lines of type; 
also note effectiveness of direct 
quotations. 




THE STRUCTURE OF A NEWS STORY 


99 


4. Additional circumstances 
surrounding the news, clearing 
up the reasons for the long 
separation. 


Mr. Hawn and a former wife were separated 
several years ago, and by the divorce decree he 
received the care and custody of a son and the 
mother received the care of the daughter Ocie. 
A short time later Hawn’s divorced wife re¬ 
married and the daughter was placed in a 
county infirmary. 

About two years later, it developed, the girl 
went to live with Mr. and Mrs. J. C. Maddox, 
of Hartford City, and under their guidance and 
care she grew to young womanhood. Mr. Mad¬ 
dox was formerly a member of the Indiana 
legislature from Blackford county. On July 17, 
1921, she was married to Dwight Newberry, a 
printer, at Hartford City. 


LETTER PROVIDES CLUE 

5. The clue that led to the About two weeks ago Mr. Hawn received a 

^rtSnrb* e n“ , tadllSiM r ib& ,etter ’ signed a name believed t0 be fict j- 

tious, asserting that information about his 
daughter could be provided. A telegram was 
sent in reply to the communication, but was 
not delivered for lack of proper address. Mr. 
Hawn then took the matter up through other 
channels, with the result that his daughter was 
found. Until recently he did not know whether 
his daughter was living. 


The whole story, which might form the basis for a novel, is sim¬ 
ply sketched in the opening sentence. The plain facts are suffi¬ 
cient to arouse the reader’s interest without the expedient of fine 
writing. The account is then developed in reverse order of occur¬ 
rence, ending with interesting details, but ones which might have 
been omitted without destroying the force of the narrative. 

The purpose of the lead. The opening paragraph in a news story 
is called a lead (rhyming with reed) and is designed to pocket all 
the facts compactly. A good lead is difficult to write. The re¬ 
porter needs experience before his news findings naturally fall 
into logical thought divisions. If the lead is well done, the story as 
a whole has a good chance of getting past the copy-reader without 
bearing many marks of the corrective pencil. Reporters spend 
much time in so framing an introductory paragraph that it may 
be both attractive and inclusive in the summary of facts, and also 
prove appropriate to the subject. 




100 ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 

A word of explanation. The foregoing style of attack is now so 
generally observed in newspaper offices that the young reporter 
will save himself a deal of trouble in speedily conforming his 
method to the accepted custom. It is not so arbitrary a require¬ 
ment as it would seem and results in convenience to both the 
public and the make-up editor. The busy man in the street car 
or in the counting-room has neither time nor inclination to read 
through paragraph after paragraph that he may reach the real 
essence of a story at the end. He wishes the news prominently 
displayed by means of a pithy headline to arrest his attention and 
a concise opening sentence to arouse his interest. 

There is another reason, largely a mechanical one, growing out 
of office conditions. The average newspaper has difficulty in 
handling the amount of news that reaches its desks every day. 
Indeed, the difficult task is not in collection, but in selection. 
Pressure of important news at a late hour or a crush of adver¬ 
tising will frequently demand the killing of less vital paragraphs 
of stories already in type. If they are written in this "upside 
down” fashion only the least important facts of the story need 
be sacrificed. 

On a morning paper, for instance, reporters begin work at one 
o’clock. At that time much space is available, and afternoon as¬ 
signments are usually written with detail. Evening comes on, and 
often with it many an exciting happening. News does not develop 
by schedule. A big story—the death of a president, a murder, a 
mine catastrophe, graft in the statehouse—may come in at any 
moment and demand many columns of space. Obviously this 
fresh news is of more importance than the most of the afternoon 
stuff. It is therefore necessary to trim less important stories, many 
of which probably have been printed with elaboration in evening 
papers. This trimming is accomplished by throwing away con¬ 
cluding paragraphs of stories already in type and by slashing copy 
yet to go to the compositor. 

Grouping the five W’s. The following lead is expressive of the 
human-interest values of the story, mingling the appeal to the 
emotions with the clear statement of the facts themselves. Notice 
how the feature of the attending circumstances is first accentuated 
as of most engrossing interest. 


THE STRUCTURE OF A NEWS STORY 


ioi 


Berkeley, Cal., May 22— Childhood dreams 
of the chance to display physical bravery, a 
chance denied him by deformity from birth, 
became a reality yesterday for Charles Arkin- 
stall, 14. He seized the bridle of a runaway 
horse and clung to it until the animal stopped. 
A woman and two children in the buggy were 
uninjured. Arkinstall’s ankle was broken. 


In the foregoing paragraph, as in all good leads, five important 
questions are suggested and answered. They are What? Who? 
Where? When? Why? These queries are the logical ones which 
group themselves in order of importance in the reader’s mind, and 
should be answered early in the lead sentences. All of them are 
not, however, of equal importance; the question that has greatest 
feature value should always be selected. 

Where. In the following story where is the most significant 
point of the story, so the word Paris is given an honored place, 
thus: 

Paris, France, May 24.— Paris today ex¬ 
perienced the hottest May weather in fifty 
years. At 11 a. m. the thermometer stood at 
91 degrees Fahrenheit and was still rising. 


What. The what in this story of a college for prospective meat 
packers has not been printed before, and therefore was made the 
feature of the introductory sentence: 

Something new in educational institutions 
will be founded here—a college at which pro¬ 
spective meat packers may receive special train¬ 
ing—if plans of Thomas E. Wilson, president 
of the Institute of American Meat Packers, 
materialize. 

In a report to the institute’s executive com¬ 
mittee Wilson has outlined plans for a train¬ 
ing school that would " provide broad but 
specialized collegiate education for young men 
intending to enter the packing industry.” 


Who. To begin a story with a name is the simplest of all be¬ 
ginnings and often the most effective. Unless the person is well 
known, however, it is best to choose a more striking feature. 








102 ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 

Lacking this, the who leaps into position, thus: 

Madison, Wis., May 23.—Helen Hovde of 
Des Moines, Iowa, a student at the University 
of Wisconsin, was seriously injured, and her 
companion, Marguerite Sherwood of Chicago, 
also a student, received a broken knee when the 
new racing car owned by Miss Hovde turned 
over on the Verona road, near here, late 
yesterday. 

The girls were giving the racer its first trial. 

They failed to consider the condition of the 
road and while speeding lost control of the 
machine, which swerved to the side of the high¬ 
way and turned over three times. 

When. Time seldom earns a prominent place in a lead, but in 
the accompanying example a certain breathlessness is given the 
story, and its speed is quickened, by placing the phrase Two hours 
at the beginning: 

New York, May 20.—Two hours before the 
steamship Majestic sailed for England today it 
took aboard the last of the special shipment 
from Chicago which is being rushed across land 
and ocean to complete a seven day shipment 
from the middle west to London. 

The freight was meat and meat products, 
taken aboard from a lighter tied alongside the 
Majestic at daybreak. The freight started from 
Chicago Thursday and was rushed by special 
train to Weehawken, N. J., where it was light¬ 
ered across the river. 

Why. The statement of cause is the chief ingredient of this 
story, which would otherwise not have been printed : 

Paris, May 25.—(By the Associated Press.) 

—Because of a slight fog this forenoon there 
was some delay in the departure of Maj. W. T. 

Blake, Capt. Norman MacMillan and Lieut. 

Col. Le Broome, the British aviators, who 
reached Paris yesterday from England on the 
first stage of their attempted 30,000-mile flight 
around the world. 

The airmen had their machine out on Bour- 
get field ready for the departure, but at 1:30 
p. m. they were still awaiting more favorable 
conditions. 








THE STRUCTURE OF A NEWS STORY 


103 

By the skillful adjusting of the elements of the lead even an 
uneventful death notice may be made interesting by giving atten¬ 
tion to setting and unique circumstances. Here is the lead sen¬ 
tence of such an announcement, worth considerable space because 
of the prominence the actor played in a recent romance: 

London in June and a reunion of the three: 

Mary Landon Baker, daughter of the Alfred 
Landon Bakers, 1130 Lake Shore drive; Al- 
lister McCormick, son of Mr. and Mrs. L. 

Hamilton McCormick, 631 Rush street, her 
fiance, and Barry Baxter, English actor, who 
played here this winter at the Garrick theater 
with Ina Claire in "Bluebeard’s Eighth Wife.” 

The tryst will never take place. 

Barry Baxter died yesterday morning in 
New York of pneumonia at the home of a 
friend, Dr. E. L. Round, 130 West Seventieth 
street, just a few hours after the arrival of a 
dispatch from Paris announcing the fifth post¬ 
ponement, this time until September, of the 
Baker-McCormick nuptials, which were to have 
taken place at the Fourth Presbyterian dhurch 
Jan. 2. 

Suicide. In the case of a suicide the cause and background 
almost always furnish a compelling, not to say sensational, lead, 
unless the unusual prominence of the person captures the niche. 
This is the usual cast of a suicide story concerned with the an¬ 
nouncement of a person’s sudden death: 

Mrs. Emma Weir, 65 years old, who was 
found dead yesterday in her apartment at 2114 
Wellington avenue, with gas flowing from four 
open jets, was identified last night as the Emma 
Weir known as a shoplifter of years ago, with 
a record dating back to 1876. She had long 
since "retired.” 

Here is another suicide story in which the motive is forced into 
the opening sentence: 

Despondency caused by illness and an acci¬ 
dent which befell her husband is believed to 
have caused Mrs. Rosa Grecco, mother of eight 
children, to attempt suicide in her home at 
767 De Koven street last night. Her husband, 

Michael Grecco, a well digger, had his right 








104 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 


collar bone broken a week ago when a well 
caved in on him. He told the police he was ly¬ 
ing in bed in one room and his wife was in 
bed in another room talking to her 5 year old 
son when she fired a bullet into her abdomen. 

Participial and infinitive leads. Variety may also be secured by 
employing different parts of speech in beginning the story. Leads 
starting with a participial or a prepositional phrase not only break 
the monotony but also introduce the action into the first group of 
words, making for graphic force. Thus: 

Washington, D.C., May 25. —Willing to 
take a chance with death to prove himself the 
only real aerial daredevil of congress, Repre¬ 
sentative Manuel Herrick (rep., Okla.) ac¬ 
cepted an aviator’s challenge today to join 
him in a high flight with the brakes off. 


From those sections of Chicago where live 
the "underprivileged” children, the boys and 
girls who don’t know what vacation means ex¬ 
cept that it is cessation from school activities, 
will go to the country homes in Illinois this 
summer more than 1000 youngsters through 
the co-operation of the Daily News, the Illi¬ 
nois Agricultural association and the United 
Charities. 

Suiting the lead to the story. If all stories rigidly followed the 
straight news style in telling the news, readers would soon tire of 
having information served them according to formula. Indeed, 
bare items listed in a row possess little attraction to the average 
reader. To avoid the ennui caused by such dull, standardized 
writing newspapermen endeavor to cast their facts in a variety 
of molds, each dependent upon the sort of news to be disclosed. 

The question lead. The foregoing leads have all carried the news 
in declarative style. Upon occasion, however, many newspaper¬ 
men employ the rhetorical interrogation with striking effect. Thus: 

Louisville.— Where is the body of William 
Clark Quantrill, famous as a guerrilla in the 
Civil War days? This is a question that Mayor 
Huston Quinn has been called upon to answer 
by a member of the Confederate Veterans of 
Oklahoma. 









THE STRUCTURE OF A NEWS STORY 


105 

The quotation lead. A direct quotation setting forth a signifi¬ 
cant remark, a passage from a speech, or an epigrammatic phrase 
may be used as a key sentence in starting the story’s movement, 
generally with realistic result, if the paragraph of quotation does 
not become unwieldy. The Kansas City Star and the Chicago 
Evening Post use the monologue with capital results, often adding 
informal tone and a chatty freedom to an otherwise humdrum bit 
of news. Apropos of this method, notice how an interchange of 
comment gives an attractive touch to this story of a baby raffle 
clipped from an Ohio paper: 

"Is it alive? Well, good gracious! I should 
say it is alive!” exclaimed Herman Collin last 
night when asked about the "real live baby” 
he advertises to give away Thursday night 
during the performance at Collin’s garden. "It 
can crow and cry, too, you bet; just come 
down and see for yourself, that night!” 

"Whose baby is it?” he was asked. 

"Ah,” replied Mr. Collin, "that I promised 
not to tell.” 

"Are the parents tired of it or why are they 
giving it up?” was the next question. 

"That also I promised not to tell,” said Mr. 

Collin. 

" Is it a boy ? Is it a white baby ? How old 
is it ? Has it got blue eyes ? What does it look 
like?” 

Mr. Collin gave way somewhat under this 
fusillade and said: "Well, I’ll tell you; it is a 
boy and maybe he’ll be president some day. 

I don’t know what kind of eyes he’s got. He 
is a white baby, of course, and about six 
months old; at least I suppose so, because he 
is still clinging to a bottle with his chubby 
little fists.” 

The cartridge lead. To attract the reader’s attention to a sud¬ 
den news happening a short sentence may sometimes be employed. 
It is sharp, pungent, and provocative of thought. Such a lead has 
the force of a bullet-shot and may well be called a cartridge lead. 
In this regard the New York Evening Post and the Kansas City 
Star can usually be depended upon to give a literary finish and a 
happy twist to their leads. A case in point is the death of Presi¬ 
dent Harding told by many reporters in the first dozen words. 




io6 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 


Will Irwin’s great requiem of San Francisco begins: 

The old San Francisco is dead. The gayest, 
lightest-hearted, most pleasure-loving city of 
the western continent, and in many ways the 
most interesting and romantic, is a horde of 
refugees living among ruins. It may rebuild, 
it probably will; but those who have known 
that peculiar city by the Golden Gate, have 
caught its flavor of the Arabian Nights, feel 
that it can never be the same. It is as though 
a pretty, frivolous woman had passed through 
a great tragedy. She survives, but she is so¬ 
bered and different. If it rises out of the ashes, 
it must be a modern city, much like other 
cities and without its old atmosphere. 

The suspended-interest lead. There is another type of opening 
sentence, styled the suspended-interest lead, which does not fol¬ 
low regular news-story structure, but develops the facts as it pro¬ 
ceeds, like a short story or novel. In some situations this may be 
effectively used, but the occasion must warrant such leisurely pro¬ 
cedure. Mystery and animal stories designed to entertain rather 
than inform are well suited to this sort of presentation. Note: 

Middletown, N. Y., May 16. —Edsall & Bill¬ 
ings run a drug store here. Leslie Edsall takes 
care of the prescription end of the store. His 
end was vacant this afternoon and he was 
' watching the line of customers at the soda 

counter and the novelty showcases when he 
saw a dog sneak in alongside a patron. "Queer 
dog,” Leslie thought. "Doesn’t seem to belong 
to the customer—seems to be by himself.” 

Then he noticed that the dog was walking on 
three legs and holding up the fourth paw. 

While Leslie watched the dog hopped along 
on three legs, passing all the customers, until 
he came to the prescription department, where 
Leslie has prominently displayed a large " First 
Aid” sign. As Leslie leaned over his counter, 
the dog looked up wistfully and held his in¬ 
jured paw up a little higher. Leslie took in the 
situation at a glance and, taking up the dog, 
treated the injured paw and put it in splints. 

The dog wagged his tail and went out. Leslie 
says he found out the dog had never seen the 
drug store before, but had sought it after try¬ 
ing to stop an automobile. 






THE STRUCTURE OF A NEWS STORY 


107 


The descriptive lead. Closely related to the suspended-interest 
lead is one presenting statements which, one by one, draw increas¬ 
ing attention to the story as it unfolds. Indeed, every sentence is 
a lead in itself until the story reaches a climax. Observe the ad¬ 
vantage of this type of story, which builds interest: 

Newport News, VA.,-May 26. —To the town 
where she was born "the Lizzie of the navy” 
came back today not as a heroine, but as an 
orphaned pauper. In the early ’90s she steamed 
for the first time out through the misty Vir¬ 
ginia capes, flag bedecked, blue jackets ener¬ 
getic, and with her proud commander on her 
bridge waving acknowledgments to a cheering 
mass on the shore and saluting passing craft. 

Now she is back, flagless, crewless, and cheer¬ 
less with none to do her honor. 

And she is furious in her despair. Not be¬ 
cause she is to be scrapped, she who always 
was ready for a scrap. But she is to be reborn, 
and reborn a German ship. 

Types of freak leads. Sometimes a bit of poetry may strike just 
the desired note in the lead and put the reader in the frame of 
mind to appreciate the story that follows. Such a device is known 
as a freak lead. The Chicago Daily News has a special writer who 
makes a practice of writing whimsical poetry as a prelude to his 
news oddities. The following signed story is an example: 

By Robert J. Casey 

"I’ll be quite Franc with you,” he said, 

As from his banking lists he read. 

"Just Mark my prices are ahead. 

" The new exchange, a week from hence, 

Will be less favorable, gents. 

I would not keep you in sus-Pence. 

"Of Sterling methods I am fond. 

My principal is safe and sound. 

I lose an ounce; I gain a Pound. 

"My honesty you must admire. 

No profit here shall I acquire.” 

His hearers answered: "You’re a Lire!” 

—Vest Pocket Anthology 

[Special Correspondence of The Daily News.] 

On Board S.S. Canopic, May 8.—This is a 
personal message to Mr. Ponzi of Boston, who 






io8 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 


reaped a fortune and some months in the peni¬ 
tentiary by means of experiment with un¬ 
changing exchanges. Its principal character is 
Jeremiah Griswold of Melbourne, a financier 
who never had heard of Mr. Ponzi but whose 
ambitions were not to be bounded by the cir¬ 
cumference of a dollar. 

Mr. Griswold sauntered up the gangplank at 
Halifax with a pocketful of express checks and 
no thought of future riches. He had not been 
at sea a day, however, before he discovered 
one of those strange phenomena of ships. In 
the steerage smoking room refreshments of 
various sorts were purveyed at 22 cents per 
portion, whereas in the cabin cardroom the 
same portion of potion cost 23 cents. 

HE GETS THE IDEA 

Mr. Griswold wanted to know. Mr. Griswold 
was told. With constant fluctuation of ex¬ 
change the value of a shilling (nominally 25 
cents) depended largely upon the guess of the 
steward making the sale. It was quite compli¬ 
cated. Anything from $4.43 to $4.50 was worth 
a pound, whereas a pound avoirdupois of Eng¬ 
lish copper pieces was worth about 49 cents. 

Mr. Griswold was quick to observe this un¬ 
settled condition of the money market and as 
quick to respond to the urge of gain. He saw 
that by trading with the cabin smoking-room 
steward he would be able to acquire numerous 
22-cent shillings in change. It was obviously 
simple to take these 2 2-cent shillings to the 
steerage canteen and sell them at 23 cents. 

His steamer trunk began to bulge with a 
motley array of currency. Today when he 
prepared to turn in his gains to the purser his 
paper profit had reached $100. 

Notice another type of freak lead which brings action and dia¬ 
logue into the story and is nicely adapted to stories written in a 
light, humorous vein: 

Mrs. C. F. Wise, who conducts a day nursery 
at 6939 South Ada street, called the Engle¬ 
wood police today. 

"Pve tried to find Mrs. Mary Smith, the 
mother of a baby in my nursery, for weeks,” 
said she. "I’m a failure. Can you do any¬ 
thing?” 






THE STRUCTURE OF A NEWS STORY 


109 


The police thought they might, if Mrs. Wise 
would give them details. 

Mrs. Wise would. The baby’s name, said 
she, was Dolores. The mother hadn’t paid for 
her keep. She didn’t know the mother’s ad¬ 
dress, but her telephone number was such and 
such. Of course, that wouldn’t do the police 
much good. There are so many telephones. 

"Yep,” came back the sergeant. "There are 
a lot of telephone numbers.” He omitted to 
say the telephone company Jcnew them all. 

Figurative leads are devices which add novelty and tone to 
stories, generally those with happy endings, although in the hands 
of a writer equipped with literary skill and background the figura¬ 
tive lead may be applied to serious recitals. Examine this one: 

Sherlock Holmes has unraveled his last mys¬ 
tery. He and the admiring Dr. Watson have 
gone to the story characters’ heaven, and Scot¬ 
land Yard will have to do its stupid best with¬ 
out them. 

Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, creator of Sherlock 
and his Boswell, has abandoned literature, he 
told an audience of Chicago spiritualists last 
night, at 12 South Oakley boulevard. He will 
devote the rest of his life in this world to prop¬ 
aganda for "the greatest thing that has come 
to humanity in 2000 years.” 

Policy leads. Nearly every newspaper holds to a set of news 
policies that are played into the leads whenever occasion warrants. 
They may be used in a campaign against reckless driving, against 
bootleg whisky, or be wielded in the interest of a constructive 
program for civic improvements, such as a subway or better trac¬ 
tion service. Read this one: 

Results of the new psychoanalytic method of 
dealing with reckless motorists, inaugurated in 
the traffic court today, were apparent before 
the court had been in session half an hour. 

Eimer Nelson, 31 years old, born in Sweden, 
arrested on a charge of driving while intoxi¬ 
cated, after he had crashed into a string of cars 
awaiting the "go” signal in South Halsted 
street, was fined $150 and costs, sentenced to 
go to church for a year, placed on probation 
for a year, and consigned to the water wagon 
for the same length of time. 








no 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 

The following lead, illustrated with the striking cut, brings 
into strong relief the disastrous results that follow the sale and 
use of illicit whisky: 

Poisoned liquor claimed three more lives in 
Chicago yesterday, while groups of public 
spirited citizens, police 
officials and govern¬ 
ment prohibition heads 
girded themselves for a 
fresh attack during the 
coming week on boot¬ 
leggers and purveyors 
of home vintages of al¬ 
leged deadly character. 

The three new death 
victims, one of whom 
was a woman, which 
brings the total fatal¬ 
ities since Jan. i up to 
thirty-seven, were: 

Mrs. Grace Linn, 35 
years old, 1031 Sedg¬ 
wick street. 

Frank Svoboda, 37, father of six children, 

2151 West 18th place. 

A man identified as Anthony Victovich, 35 
years old. 

The 1-2-3 lead. The 1 - 2-3 lead is the simplest means of 
handling a story complicated by several features of equal im¬ 
portance. The first paragraph must be a brief summary of the 
whole story, as constituted by the several happenings. Then comes 
a short sketch, usually in separate paragraphs, of the various fea¬ 
tures, altogether like the table of contents of a book, followed by 
facts detailed under each numbered division. For example: 

The street car men’s unions yesterday halted 
their march towards a strike long enough to 
make three significant moves in the direction 
of peace. The outstanding developments of 
the day’s conferences were: 

1. William D. Mahon, international president 
of the union, extended an invitation to any 
outside agency, representing either the city or 
state, to exert whatever influence it may have 
in effecting a settlement between the men and 
the companies. 








THE STRUCTURE OF A NEWS STORY 


hi 


2. The elevated men’s committee decided to 
continue their negotiations with President Brit¬ 
ton I. Budd as to wages and working condi¬ 
tions this afternoon. 

3. The street car men’s committee decided to 
ask for another conference with Henry A. 

Blair, president of the Chicago Surface lines, 
at the same time. 

Bringing new facts into the story. When a story is already in 
type it often becomes necessary to write a new lead to take care of 
the latest tidings, some hidden feature that has just come to 
light. If a robbery has been committed and the man involved in 
the theft has escaped, naturally the opening paragraph would spend 
more time on the happening itself; but if the robber is captured 
a few hours later, the lead should be rewritten to incorporate the 
fact, since every newspaper prides itself on up-to-the-minute pub¬ 
lication of news. It is not often necessary to. rewrite the whole 
story, but merely to eliminate the old lead and substitute another, 
marking it new lead. At the beginning of the body of the story 
is written Turn rule , new lead , so that the compositors will know 
how to assemble the parts of the story. 

Sometimes a story is not complete in all its details, but adds im¬ 
portant facts every day as fresh developments occur. The adept 
newspaperman must not only watch for these developments, but 
must so weave them into the lead that there will be no confusion 
on the part of the reader. It often happens that a reader has not 
seen the first details of the story published, so he would be hope¬ 
lessly at sea when later developments appear. He requires some 
explanation of the events leading up to them. To overcome this 
difficulty the reporter should insert explanatory clauses that recall 
the first stages of the story and at the same time bring into high re¬ 
lief the newest feature. This type of opening paragraph is quite 
different from a new lead, which cannot presuppose the reader has 
known facts previously printed, even though it includes all the 
information. For instance, here is the lead which introduces a 
story of a jewel robbery: 

Owen W. Brewer’s home at 411 Briar place, 
the northern end of Chicago’s gold coast, was 
looted of jewels and clothing valued at $15,000 
yesterday by a "model maid” who was em- 






112 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 

ployed three days ago, giving references from 
Pasadena, Cal. The loss was first discovered by 
Mr. Brewer when he returned home near din¬ 
ner time. A partial and hasty inventory of 
missing valuables taken is as follows: 


Two diamond rings.$2000 

One diamond sapphire ring .... 800 

One diamond ring.900 

One pearl necklace.2600 

One diamond scarf pin.400 

One pearl scarf pin.400 

One lorgnette chain.275 


COMPLETE LIST IMPOSSIBLE 

It was not possible to make a complete 
check last night on everything missing. 

The identification of the "model maid” was made interesting 
by the following facts which gave a new angle to the story: 

Mrs. Etta Perry Hall, divorced wife of 
Joseph Hall, wealthy broker and real estate 
man, was identified yesterday as the "burglar 
maid” who robbed the home of Owen W. 

Brewer at 411 Briar place Wednesday, obtain¬ 
ing loot estimated as worth $15,000. The iden¬ 
tification was made by Mrs. Brewer after she 
had been shown a picture of Mrs. Hall by the 
representative of an insurance company. 

There was a still later development which implicated another 
accomplice: 

Mrs. Etta Perry Hall, "model maid,” hunted 
by police for a $15,000 robbery in the home of 
Mrs. Owen Brewer, 411 Briar place, and an 
unidentified man believed the "master mind” 
guiding her, were trailed by Herald and Ex¬ 
aminer reporters yesterday to Milwaukee. They 
are thought to be in hiding there. 

Mrs. Hall, or a woman so closely resembling 
her as to be identified as her from a photo¬ 
graph, had appeared in a Kenosha drug store. 

She carried two heavy suitcases and a hat box, 
such as the Brewer maid had when last seen. 

Each story while containing almost the same information has 
enough punch given it by the added facts to make it zestful and 
readable. 














THE STRUCTURE OF A NEWS STORY 


ii3 

Rewriting stories from other papers. Housewives long ago dis¬ 
covered that wilted lettuce may be made crisp and fresh by sprin¬ 
kling water on the leaves. Newspapermen have recourse to the 
same artifice when it becomes necessary to revive stale information. 
To give belated news an appearance of freshness it is customary 
to emphasize at the start the latest development of a story already 
printed and to reserve minor details for concluding sentences. 
This practice also operates upon stories rewritten from earlier 
editions, where effort is made to play up fresh phases and inci¬ 
dents. Such expressions as It was announced last night and At 
10 o'clock this morning are used to masquerade tardiness of pub¬ 
lication in the case of happenings which have just leaked out or 
which have been exploited at length in other papers. One of the 
duties of the rewrite man is to rehash such stories. Note the 
following, rewritten from a morning paper: 

Mr. and Mrs. William E. Swift of Lake 
Forest, today were besieged by friends and 
relatives who sought to congratulate them on 
their remarkable escape from injury, when their 
automobile stalled on the railroad tracks at the 
Lake Forest station. 

The running story. Stories are not always written after the 
event has become a matter of history. The "running” story comes 
in piecemeal from the court room, the baseball diamond, and the 
prize ring. The reporter transmits every swing of the pugilist’s 
arm and every crack of the bat just as they occur. When the 
game, trial, or fight is over, the details are complete, and the only 
thing necessary is to write a lead for the entire sequence. This 
sort of story, frequently seen in the sporting editions after the 
game, is not eminently satisfactory. It lacks unity and compact¬ 
ness, qualities much to be desired in newspaper accounts. 

In the matter of court trials radical departures have taken place 
in the past few years. The old method of printing questions of 
lawyers and answers of witnesses is giving way to a more realistic 
procedure, which may be compared to the novelistic method. The 
appearance of the witness on the stand is described, his striking 
remarks and how he made them are inserted, and every touch of 
comedy or tragedy likely to arouse sympathy is played up. It is 




114 ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 

only necessary to follow any celebrated trial, in which women fea¬ 
ture writers match wits with unemotional newspapermen, to make 
clear modern reporting. This method of featuring court scenes— 
while sometimes too colorful and hectic—marks a distinct advance 
over the drab stenographic report, which few people read carefully. 

Avoid the stereotype. In setting down some of the most useful 
devices to carry the news to the reader there has been no thought 
of recommending standardized forms that kill originality and 
freshness. Most intelligent copy-readers find delight in a piece of 
good writing, just as every instructor in news writing courts it 
from his students. The only purpose of any textbook is to guide 
the feet of young writers in the right direction. 

Suggestions to writers. If you have a "scoop” and are dealing 
with an exciting episode just unearthed, you are justified in going 
into detail, since you are turning up fallow ground. If a story has 
already been printed in full, you should present the facts in con¬ 
densed form unless new features have developed. 

Don’t pad your story unnecessarily. Strength, not merely 
length, is wanted. 

Put the freshest and timeliest feature of the story first, even if 
you have to recast it because of later developments. This is espe¬ 
cially true of rewrites. 

When you have a big story always ask for space limit at the city 
desk before you begin to write it. Never exceed the space first 
allowed for a story without consulting the city editor. 

Set down the high-lights of the story; then choose the brightest 
for your feature. 

Plan the lead of your story on the way back to the office. You 
will then have less difficulty in getting started. 

Don’t overwork the participial lead. Some newspapermen can 
write nothing else. 

No lead should contain elements not found in the main body of 
the story. 

Try to tell the gist of the news in the first dozen words. 

Use superlatives sparingly. 

Don’t misrepresent the facts for the sake of novelty. 

Don’t try to jam all you know into one omnibus sentence; feed 
in subsidiary facts gradually. 


THE STRUCTURE OF A NEWS STORY 115 

Crowd as much action into your lead as possible. 

Avoid beginning your lead with a , the , or yesterday , unless 
clearly expedient to do so. 

Use nouns and verbs of Anglo-Saxon origin rather than foreign 
derivatives. 

Follow the peculiarities of style common to your paper. 

Don’t take anything for granted in your lead. The reader 
should know just where an event took place and the actors in it. 
The fact that something is familiar to you is no reason for sup¬ 
posing that the public knows all about it. 

Pique the curiosity of your reader. 

Stop when your story ceases to be interesting. 

PRACTICE ASSIGNMENTS 
I. Inverted Leads 

The accompanying newspaper leads are defective because the 
facts of top interest have been lost or hopelessly jumbled. Ex¬ 
amine them carefully, then rewrite them so that the outstanding 
news feature is immediately presented. 

Strive for easy reading, truthfulness, reader-interest. 

1 . A brakeman on the C. & N. W. Ry., about 23 years of age, was 
struck by an eastbound passenger train No. 20 about half a mile east 
of Winfield at 2:40 o’clock Wednesday afternoon and instantly killed. He 
was a brakeman on a way freight which was switching in the Winfield yards, 
and stood beside the eastbound track as the passenger train went thundering 
through. It is thought the "pull” of the passing train caused the accident. 
He was picked up and brought to Kampp’s undertaking establishment. 

The coroner’s inquest held at the city hall yesterday brought out the fact 
that the name of the deceased was James Dewey Kellogue, about 23 years 
old, unmarried. He roomed in Chicago, but his father lives in Lincoln, Ill. 

2 . A number of business men have been donating their cars and services 
to the Fair Association the past few weeks, advertising the fair at various 
towns and along the way to these towns. Yesterday the secretary Dr. 
George C. Blish made a trip in one of the cars to the southern part of the 
county and while driving past a section of land near Elizabeth he noticed 
a large number of trees that had been torn up by the roots by the wind of 
last Friday evening. 

These huge trees, a small grove of them, had been toppled over as though 
they were mere twigs. One tree was a huge oak fully six or eight feet in 


116 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 


circumference that was felled as slick as a whistle. Then some people will 
say that no bad windstorms ever occur in this locality. Wind with power 
to root up big trees such as these were has power to do any amount of 
damage should it strike a town. 

3 . A fire discovered shortly after n o’clock Thursday night, destroyed 
an old ice house and several smaller buildings in Arlington and for a time 
threatened the entire town. A barrier of trees intervening between the blaze 
and business buildings of the town’s main street, proved effective in check¬ 
ing a general spread of the flames. 

4 . On last Monday night a meeting was held in the Central school at 
Sycamore, to see if there was any interest left to revive the Sycamore 
band, and the occasion was a success. 

Those present organized and elected the following officers: 

President, Robert J. Lecky 
Vice president, Fred Solomon 
Secretary, Charles Tyrrell 
Treasurer, G. R. Holmes 
Leader, John O’Brien 
Librarian, Robert Hoover 

After the election they enjoyed a couple of hours playing. 

5 . A Sunday school picnic arranged by the Brooklyn Lutheran church 
and which was to have been held in the Zimmerman woods, was postponed 
last week on account of locusts, which were so numerous in the grove as to 
make it impossible to hold the picnic there. 

6. Several automobile loads of Starke county bankers drove to Crown 
Point, Tuesday and attended the big picnic staged by the Second District 
Bankers Association of Indiana. All the banks of Starke county were rep¬ 
resented and a splendid time is reported. Those from Knox in attendance 
were: J. W. Long, H. F. Schricker, J. W. Kurtz and wife, F. A. Green and 
wife, Gus Reiss and wife, James C. Fletcher and wife, W. S. Daniel and 
wife, Frank Joseph and wife, H. R. Koffel and wife, Edward Taylor 
and wife, Charles Koffel, Miss Marie Fletcher, Robert Joseph, Miss Thelma 
Newtson, Martin Kurtz, Charles J. Schwartz and wife. 

Our delegation went with a determination that their presence be felt. 
In the contests they were victors and brought back the trophy for the horse 
shoe pitching contest. The winning team was composed of F. A. Green and 
Elmer E. Mosher. 

7 . The story published yesterday of the explosive milk bottle which 
nearly tore the thumb from the hand of C. B. Signer, Chicago representa¬ 
tive of the Lackawanna railroad, blew up today with much the same vio¬ 
lence that is supposed to have attended the opening of the bottle. 


THE STRUCTURE OF A NEWS STORY 


117 

It was said the bottle was an infernal machine planted by rail strikers. 

Mr. Signer said today that the bottle was filled with gasoline and that 
the wreck of his hand occurred when he threw the container away. 

The error was caused by a mistake in the hospital reports, when he went 
to have his hand dressed. 

8. The necessity of sharing the burden of the mother who is obliged 
through misfortune to leave her home and go out to work to support her 
children, is to be met by a group of women headed by Mrs. Joseph Fish 
of 5490 South Shore drive. 

For several years a home for working mothers with children over two 
years of age has been maintained at 4206 Ellis avenue by the Co-operative 
League of Chicago, of which Mrs. Fish is president. 

So urgent has the need become for providing living quarters for mothers 
with younger children that the league has launched a larger plan and will 
open similar homes in various sections of the city where mothers with 
babies will be accepted. 

A trained nurse, a dietition, a house mother and a kindergarten are pro¬ 
vided by the organization, which will be known henceforth as the Home 
Club for Working Mothers. The children of school age will be sent to the 
near-by schools. 

9 . Cousinly affection having ripened into a deeper and tenderer love, 
Mr. Thomas Edward Payne, of Troy, Va., and Miss Ellen Payne, of Kes¬ 
wick, drove in their car last evening to the parsonage of the High Street 
Baptist church and were united in holy wedlock by the Rev. Henry W. 
Battle, D. D. They left immediately afterwards for a bridal trip to Wash¬ 
ington and other points. 

10 . Just before the Fourth the section around Gilberts was shocked by 
an untoward happening in the family of Mr. W. S. Wilkerson, one mile 
north of that village, which resulted in his losing his life at the hands of 
his son, Emmett Wilkerson, who claims that he shot him to protect 
his mother. 

11 . There was a terrible accident at Michigan City, Indiana, when Mr. 
John Blake, a prominent man of Fairdale was killed last night. 

Mr. Blake’s automobile was struck by a train. He and two friends have 
been touring Michigan for about a week and were returning home and ex¬ 
pected to arrive at Fairdale this evening. 

It is not known at this time whether the others in the party were hurt 
or not. 

Mrs. Blake was with her husband and she telephoned her sons regard¬ 
ing the accident, which would indicate that she was not seriously injured. 

12 . How would you like to go on an old-fashioned picnic; to enjoy once 
more the thrill which comes with cooking the supper over the open-air 
fire; to feel once more the joy of living for a brief spell in the outdoors? 


n8 ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 

Battle Creek’s new tourist camp is to be officially dedicated on Friday 
afternoon—and the dedication will be one of those old-fashioned family 
picnics, such as you enjoyed in the years gone by and should enjoy again. 

The tourist camp is completed. Its tables, stoves, water connections 
and comfort stations are in place—all the result of volunteer labor on the 
part of Battle Creek’s enterprising business men. And now Battle Creek 
is to dedicate it. 

13 . Thursday evening Rev. Ferdinand C. Iglehart, author for fifty-two 
years and former pastor of the First M. E. church of Bloomington, inter¬ 
nationally known for his temperance work, and as a biographer of his 
intimate friend, the late Theodore Roosevelt, died suddenly of apoplexy 
in New York City. Death came after a fishing trip, at the home of a friend 
in Montauk Point, L.I. The funeral will be held privately. The home of 
Dr. and Mrs. Iglehart was at Dobbs Ferry, N.Y. He was in his seventy- 
eighth year. 

14 . Sunday afternoon about 4 p. m. a Studebaker seven passenger car 
driven by Alvens LaVere, a Belgian of Mishawaka, Ind., and occupied by 
his wife, daughter, aged 7 or 8 years, and another couple, came to grief on 
the narrow road east of the Arford crossing, near the concrete bridge. 
LaVere tried to dodge a motor-cycle and ran into the ditch. 

15 . According to Reverend C. J. Hewitt, director of the School of 
Methods for Town and Country Pastors to be held at Garrett Biblical 
Institute from August 1-19, the features this summer will be as follows: 

Three evening lectures, Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday of this week 
at 8 o’clock in Memorial hall. The speaker will be W. W. Diehl of 
Albion college, and the subject for this series of lectures will be "Phases 
of Rural Life.” 

Friday at 8 p. m. in Memorial hall Professor Bailey of Northwestern 
will give a stereoptican lecture on "Rural Life in Art.” 

Throughout the three weeks session Professor Earl Roadman of Upper 
Iowa university will conduct a series of lectures in Memorial hall at 7 p. m. 
Prof. Roadman will speak on pageants and dramatics, and will give several 
demonstrations in connection with the course. The public is invited to 
all these lectures. 

Miss Edna Geister, a nationally known social and recreational leader, 
will have charge of the daily recreational hour tomorrow at 4 o’clock. 

16 . David Nixon, 15-months-old son of Mr. and Mrs. Vergne Nixon of 
Lake Villa, was rushed to the Victory Memorial hospital late this after¬ 
noon to get treatment for severe burns on the face, neck and hands. A pot 
of scalding tea was overturned on the youngster at lunch yesterday. The 
burns will not prove fatal, but are of such severe nature that skin grafting 
may be necessary. The babe was reaching across the table and accidentally 
spilled the tea over himself. 


THE STRUCTURE OF A NEWS STORY 

17 . Mandan’s city election, held yesterday, brought out a large vote. 
Several elements entered into the election to make the fight of considerable 
interest to the voters of the city. Two members of the city commission 
were elected, two holding over. John F. Dorn, freight conductor of the 
Northern Pacific and well known as a baseball pitcher, and Fred Cutler, 
passenger conductor for the N. P., were elected members of the city com¬ 
mission. They had the support of the labor union men, the railroad men 
making an especially hard fight for them. The vote was as follows : Dorn 
974; Cutler 860; F. Hunter 594; U. T. Endler 378. 

18 . As was predicted, Saturday afternoon’s game between the Young 
Men’s Business Club and the Wholesale Grocers proved to be one of the 
best games played this season. Though they entered the game heavy fav¬ 
orites, the unbeaten Wholesale Grocers were forced to extend themselves to 
the limit in order to get away with the big end of a 9 to 7 score, and local 
fans will eagerly look forward to the next meeting of these teams. 

19 . Of the forty-six American Legion Posts which comprise the upper 
peninsular of Michigan, advices have been received from the various posts 
by Guy M. Cox, secretary of the Upper Peninsula Association of Amer¬ 
ican Legion Posts, that fully 1500 to 2000 legion and ex-service men will 
march in the grand parade which will be held n 130 a.m. Saturday, July 8, 
at the second annual convention of the Upper Peninsula Association 
of Legion Posts at Iron Mountain Friday and Saturday, July 7 and 8. 
Each post will carry their legion colors in the grand parade. Six bands 
will also appear in the parade. 

On account of the extensive plans made for the convention it has been 
extended to cover a period of two days and will commence with the meeting 
of the state executive committee at 9 a. m. Friday, July 7. The election 
of officers for the ensuing year, reports of committees, selection of town 
for this year’s convention and other business will be taken care of at 
this meeting. 

20 . William Cannoi, 28, faced death in France with the A. E. F. many 
times, and "came through,” but with health shattered. The physical de¬ 
fects which grew out of his army service are believed to have been the 
cause of his tragic death late Saturday afternoon at Mendota when an auto¬ 
mobile which he was driving was demolished by an Illinois Central passen¬ 
ger train and Cannoi was instantly killed. The accident occurred at the 
crossing at the north end of Main street, a few minutes before 6 o’clock. 

21 . Monday morning as S. E. Bruns and Frederick Simmons were com¬ 
ing to town, when near the Lacey ranch, Mr. Bruns saw what he took to be 
the body of a man lying on the ground a short distance from the road. 
When he stated his belief to Mr. Simmons, the latter was positive that 
Bruns was mistaken. So strong was the impression on Mr. Bruns that after 
he had gone some distance he backed the car to the spot to investigate. 



120 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 


The men were shocked when they moved the snow away to find the body 
of E. M. Sherman, general foreman of the Miles and Lacey interests. 

22 . A big Haynes car was badly damaged this morning and several people 
escaped with slight injuries when two cars collided on East Lincoln High¬ 
way at seven o’clock. 

Mr. and Mrs. A. E. Gage and son of 4414 North Lincoln street, Chicago, 
were on their way to Omaha and at the Ward school house east of Dekalb, 
they collided with a car belonging to Mr. Clifford, 20 West Jackson Boule¬ 
vard, Chicago. 

23 . There has been given to the American Legion of Michigan a large 
tract of land on the shores of Otter Lake, and also having a frontage on 
two other beautiful lakes. Upon these grounds the state Legion has located 
the American Legion Children’s Billet, or home for children of deceased 
or disabled service men. Already an administration building and the first 
of a series of cottage homes are in the process of construction, and it is 
expected that eventually many cottages will be added with facilities for the 
care of the needy children of deceased or disabled World War service men. 

The plan is to make this a real home, with all that that name signifies 
for the children of service men who have passed on or of those who through 
disabilities are not able to care for their little ones. 

24 . Puzzle: how many thieves does it take to stow away a gallon of ice 
cream, six packages of cigarettes, a bottle of milk, and candy to fill in the 
chinks about two o’clock on a dark night pierced with rain and lightning ? 
That is what Harvey J. Jensen, who lives at 901 Wheeler street and has 
his grocery store connected with his dwelling would like to know. These 
articles were taken from his store last Tuesday night. 

Beside the aforesaid food, Mr. Jensen missed ten pairs of silk socks, 
and found his till which was emptied of about $80, lying in the back yard 
soaked with the rain. 

The intruders were found to have pried loose an outer window on the 
east side of the store, and farthest from the dwelling part of the building. 
After entering, they locked the door leading to that part. 

25 . According to R. B. Beach, chairman of the board of managers of the 
National School for Commercial Secretaries, which meets at Northwestern 
university August 21 to September 2, 125 secretaries from all parts of the 
nation have already enrolled and additional enrollments are being received 
daily. Among the visitors this year will be a number of women secretaries 
who desire to get additional information regarding their jobs and the best 
way to make good at same. Among the women secretaries are the follow¬ 
ing: Miss Laura B. Swenson, Omaha Chamber of Commerce; Miss Edythe 
M. Guffy, Philadelphia; Miss Agnes W. Vaille, Denver Civic and Com¬ 
mercial Association; Miss Kathleen M. Knight, Brockton, Mass. 


THE STRUCTURE OF A NEWS STORY 


12 I 


II. Stories to be Trimmed 

Compactness is more than a mere rhetorical quality in so far as 
the newspaper is concerned. Not only does it bring ease of com¬ 
prehension, but it also permits the newspaper to print a large 
number of items. 

When copy written by reporters is burdened with too many de¬ 
tails these stories are trimmed by copy-readers to fit the require¬ 
ments. Often a pressure of advertising will also cut down the 
amount available for news stories, requiring drastic cutting of 
copy submitted. 

The accompanying stories, while in some cases not objection¬ 
able, would undergo the trimming process probably because of 
the fullness of their information. See what you can do to make 
them more compact and readable, of course not sacrificing facts 
essential to the reader’s understanding. 

1 . A. H. Gilbert and George H. Sessions’ trial on the charge of embezzle¬ 
ment and misuse of the funds of the Marietta Trust & Banking company, 
leading up to a shortage at the bank of $233,000, will be the most interest¬ 
ing case heard at the sessions of the Cobb Superior court next week. 

These sessions of court will form a continuance of the March term, for 
the hearing of disqualified cases, civil and criminal, and jail cases. It is ex¬ 
pected that Judge Humphries, of Atlanta, will sit during the Gilbert- 
Sessions trial. 

A number of interesting criminal cases have developed since the last 
sessions of the court, so it is expected that the court will have a pretty full 
week ahead when it convenes on Monday morning at 9 o’clock. 

Conflicting rumors say that the local bankers under indictment will plead 
guilty or not guilty, and so little can be guessed or known until they come 
to trial under the various indictments next week. It is not expected that 
their cases will be heard before Wednesday or Thursday. 

2 . A. F. (Bert) Allen, of Huron, today announced himself as a candi¬ 
date for the Republican nomination for sheriff of Atchison county at the 
primary August 1. 

For several weeks there have been rumors that Mr. Allen would be a 
candidate for the office, and today’s announcement confirms them, to the 
unbounded pleasure of his many friends in Atchison county who had been 
insisting that he enter the race. 

Bert Allen has lived nearly all his life in Atchison county. He went to 
school in Atchison, having lived here in his youth, and moved to Huron in 


122 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 


1907, where he has since resided and where he has made many friends by 
his fair and honest business methods. His friends point to his business suc¬ 
cess as a criterion that he will make a success as sheriff, if he is nominated 
and elected. 

Few Atchison county men have a wider acquaintance or are more gener¬ 
ally popular than Mr. Allen. He has taken an active part in Republican 
politics for years, and will make a strong race. This is the first time in his 
life he has been a candidate for a county office. He expects to make an 
active campaign for the nomination all over the county, and there is not 
a neighborhood anywhere in the county in which Mr. Allen doesn’t 
have friends. 

3 . ”1 am astounded,” said Mrs. 0 . M. Babcock, one of Atchison’s most 
accomplished musicians, after the cantata given in St. Mark’s Lutheran 
church had been concluded yesterday afternoon. "Mrs. N. D. Bartlett, 
who trained St. Mark’s choir, accomplished wonders. I never heard better 
church singing. I have heard many cantatas in which the soloists did 
superbly and the choruses performed very ordinarily. But Mrs. Bartlett 
made her chorus sing grandly yesterday. The chorus work, as well as the 
solos, were great. Mrs. Bartlett has done a great constructive work 
by having trained the St. Mark’s choir to such a high degree of musi¬ 
cal efficiency.” 

About 700 people heard the cantata, "Cross and Crown,” yesterday 
afternoon, in St. Mark’s church. The singers, 18 voices, were attired in 
black gowns, as is customary in that church. The soloists were Mrs. Bart¬ 
lett, Mrs. Frank Mangelsdorf, Mrs. Earl Hellener and Evan Tonsing. 
Mrs. Bartlett distinguished herself, as usual. How she manages to train 
the choir and keep her voice fresh and sweet all the time is a mystery 
to her friends. As a choir director she has established a reputation that 
is not confined to the borders of Atchison. Mrs. Frank Mangelsdorf’s rich 
contralto voice was very, very pleasing. She is one of Atchison’s most 
pleasing vocalists, and is never disappointing. Mrs. Earl Hellener, a so¬ 
prano, delighted the audience with her solo parts. She has a very sweet 
voice, and it does not lose its charm in the high notes. Evan Tonsing was 
the tenor soloist, and his singing met with the approval of all. No person 
in the audience realized that he was singing against odds, but he was. He 
was stricken with illness Saturday night, and was not fully recovered yester¬ 
day afternoon. He believes he was poisoned by ice cream. The triumph 
scored by the choir was to a great degree due to the splendid ability of Miss 
Carrie Patton, the organist. Mrs. Babcock, who is an organist of rare 
ability, is saying some fine things today about the manner in which Miss 
Patton played the cantata music on the pipe organ. The cantata, "Cross 
and Crown,” is one of Mrs. Carrie B. Ashford’s compositions. Mrs. Ash¬ 
ford is recognized as one of the foremost composers of sacred music. 
"Cross and Crown,” is difficult in all its parts. 


THE STRUCTURE OF A NEWS STORY 


123 


4 . State Banking Commissioner John S. Fisher, of Indiana, Pa., is in 
the gubernatorial race to stay. The booms for Lieutenant Governor Bei- 
dleman and State Treasurer Charles A. Snyder have apparently been punc¬ 
tured—but today will tell the tale as it is the last day for filing petitions 
with the Secretary of the Commonwealth. 

Fisher was the first to file petitions, they being placed in Harrisburg 
Tuesday afternoon, and were signed in Indiana, Armstrong, Jefferson, But¬ 
ler, Cameron, Clearfield, Erie, Green, Mercer, Venango, Warren, Washing¬ 
ton, Westmoreland and Allegheny counties. 

Harry A. Mackey, chairman of the Workmen’s Compensation Bureau 
and Gifford Pinchot are still strong factors in the race. The one man whom 
Governor Sproul would like to see as a "harmony” candidate has not yet 
definitely appeared. Efforts to sidetrack Fisher have proved unavailing, 
as the Banking Commissioner will not turn down the call of the "folks back 
home.” It is rumored that Sproul will turn in for Pinchot, if he can’t have 
his way and name State Committee Secretary Harry Baker, Congressman 
Will Greist, or some other "masked marvel.” 

Fisher is powerful in Pittsburgh, the Oliver interest being back of him, 
and equally strong in Philadelphia. Other Western Pennsylvania counties 
are strong for him. Pinchot will not have the support of a number of his 
strongest old-time Progressive bedfellows, notably William A. Flinn, who 
wants Mackey. 

For United States Senator, since the withdrawal of John A. Bell from 
consideration, Major David A. Reed, George Wharton Pepper and William 
A. Burke are left in the field. Major Reed is very popular among ex-service 
men, having a good war record and what is always considered a good record 
as citizen. He is one of the leading members of the Pittsburgh bar, having 
headed the commission which drafted the Workmen’s Compensation Act. 
Pepper squared himself with the ex-service men by interpreting his position 
on the bonus question, saying that he was no different from many others in 
that he opposed paying cash outright as adjusted compensation. 

The whole situation presents a pretty little contest for the right to hold 
the reins of Pennsylvania political power, with Sproul willing, if able, or 
able if willing—whichever way you look at it. If he picks the winning 
candidate he will be the leader, but if he doesn’t he will have to make room 
for someone else. 

5 ..Trial of Roy Trimble, charged with highway robbery, was begun this 
morning in the Atchison county district court, at 11:25, before a jury of 
twelve Atchison county citizens. 

Selection of the jury for the trial of Mr. Trimble began at 9 o’clock 
this morning. 

Of the first eighteen men called to the jury box, seven were disqualified 
for various reasons. Before the required twelve qualified jurors had been 
selected, a total of thirty-four had been examined. 


124 ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 


The twelve who will determine the guilt or innocence of Roy Trimble are: 


John Shoebrook, 
H. H. Hackney, 
Nick lies, 

W. E. Bradley, 
Werner Nass, 
Addison Hundley, 


John Wilburn, 
Thomas Kilkenny, sr. 
George I. Intfen, 
James M. Carter, 
John H. Ward, 

C. P. Nettleton. 


Jurors who were called to serve, but who were disqualified for various 
reasons, and excused, were A. E. Ernst, G. T. Bolman, M. J. Laird, Thomas 
Mullins, Ronald Ramsay, David Morgan, Walt Noll, C. A. Oxley, L. E. 
Shay, Fred Ehret, Louis Klostermeier, Peter Petesch, Mark Snyder, John 
Rule, Oral Carson and J. W. Peak. 

T. A. Moxcey, who represents Roy Trimble, and County Attorney 
Maurice P. O’Keefe both declared this morning that the trial would be fin¬ 
ished and turned over to the jury for its verdict, by tomorrow night. 

Eight witnesses were subpoenaed to testify by the state: Milt Thompson, 
millionaire oil man of Lees Summit, Mo., whom Trimble is charged with 
having attempted to rob; Judge Charles T. Gundy, in whose office the al¬ 
leged robbery is charged to have taken place; Herman Hawkins, H. A. 
Bahr, Roy Coleman, Joseph Miller, W. P. Ham and Fred Kenner. 

The defense has also summoned eight witnesses: Herman Haase, S. S. 
King, Dr. M. T. Dingess, Tom Treat, Judge Gundy, Milt Thompson and 
Miss Mary McCoy. Miss McCoy, in her summons, is directed to produce 
the shorthand notes of the release papers dictated to her in Judge Gundy’s 
office December 24, when the robbery is alleged to have taken place. 

In examining the prospective jurymen this morning, Charles Conlon, who 
is assisting the county attorney, laid special stress upon the probability of 
the jurors being affected in their determinations by the facts that Mr. 
Thompson was a millionaire, and that Mr. Trimble formerly was a sheriff 
of Atchison county, indicating that some import may be laid upon these 
points in the progress of the trial. Practically every one of the 34 men ex¬ 
amined admitted that he had read the accounts in The Globe of the alleged 
robbery,-but few of them had formed an opinion in the case. 

County Attorney O’Keefe opened the trial this morning, with a short, 
concise review of the case and the charges. Mr. Moxcey presented the 
case for the defense this afternoon. The order in which the witnesses will 
be summoned to the stand had not been determined early this afternoon, 
but will be announced tomorrow. 

6. Galveston, Texas, April 14.— The Houston Buffs got ample re¬ 
venge for the licking which humiliated them at West End park Thursday 
by mopping up Gulfview park with the Crabs before some 6000 frantic 
fans and copping the opening game of the season here Friday by a score 
of 5 and 4. 


THE STRUCTURE OF A NEWS STORY 


125 


The visitors overcame a heavy lead which the locals piled up in the first 
few innings of the game, and by taking advantage of every break made by 
the Crabs, the men of Whitemen were able to go to the wire with a 
one-run lead. 

The features of the opening ceremonies were the usual run of presenta¬ 
tions, speechmaking and the like. Mayor Keenan of Galveston officially 
opened the season by tossing over the plate the first ball. 

Mayor Oscar Holcombe of Houston officiated at the receiving end of the 
battery. The Houston Rooters’ club presented Johnny Baggan and Man¬ 
ager Dave Griffith with huge floral bouquets, while the Galveston rooters 
retaliated by presenting Clarence Bittle a fine gold watch. 

A parade of ball players, two bands and thousands of rooters in automo¬ 
biles preceded the game. Among the distinguished fans occupying boxes 
was Doak Roberts, president of the league. 

The pitching of Donalds and the hitting of Red Smith and Hendricks 
were the outstanding features of the game. The veteran Houston right¬ 
hander, despite a bad beginning, kept plugging away in his usual calm, 
methodical manner, and, while hit hard at times, he kept the Crab sluggers 
pretty well baffled during the latter part of the game. Red Smith and Hen¬ 
dricks each lofted homers over right field fence. Hendricks’ was one of the 
hardest hit balls ever smashed at the local park, traveling on a line over 
the fence. 

From the standpoint of the Crabs and the local rooters, the opening game 
was a heart-breaker to lose, for the Islanders went into the lead in the first 
round and maintained it up until the eighth round. Loose work by the 
Crabs on the infield was responsible for the loss of the game. Errors by 
George Distel and Bill Fincher at critical junctures put the contest on ice 
for the f Houstonians. The Galveston veteran right-hander pitched a fine 
game; a better game, in fact, than did his rival. 

The Crabs started out like a whirlwind in the first round and scored two 
runs before the visitors settled down. Johnny Baggan, former Buff, crossed 
up the visiting infield by beating out a bunt for a safe hit. George Distel 
cracked a long fly to right that also went for a single. Hendricks rolled 
out and both men advanced a peg. Lloyd Cilcott came through with a hard 
single to left field and both runners scored. 

In the second round, with none on, Red Smith hoisted a long fly over the 
right field fence for a homer, and threw the Crab rooters into fits. 

Meanwhile the Buffs were failing to do much with Fincher’s delivery. 
Bailey got a fluke hit in the initial round when his grounder hit Red Jo- 
sefson, who was running to third. Bittle led off in the second with a neat 
single to left, but his teammates were unable to render him any assistance. 
The next two frames the visitors went hitless. 

In the fifth round the Buffalos concentrated some good stick work with 
an untimely error and shoved across their first two runs. Denoville doubled 


126 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 


down the left field line. He went to third on Blades’s infield single. Doyle 
shot a long fly to Baggan and Denoville came in after the throw with the 
first Buff run. Eiffert singled. Donalds dumped an easy one in front of the 
plate, and Blades scored when Fincher errored badly. 

In the following round a walk to Bittle, Red Smith’s error, an infield out 
resulted in another run. 

The Crabs added one to their list when Hendricks hit a terrific line drive 
over the right field wall in the sixth. 

The Buffalos won the game in the eighth round on two hits and George 
Distel’s error. Gross doubled to left center; he made third on the hit, but 
ground rules held it to a two bagger. Bailey beat out a bunt to third for a 
single, Gross holding third. Bittle lofted an easy fly to short. Denoville 
rapped an easy grounder to George Distel, and with an easy double play 
staring him in the face the Crab secondsacker threw wildly in an effort to 
head off Gross at the plate. Before the Crabs could get the ball back in 
play both Gross and Bailey had crossed the plate with the tying and win¬ 
ning runs. 

The Crabs went hitless in the seventh and eighth rounds. In the last half 
of the ninth Snappy Moore singled through second. Smith struck out and 
Witrey flied to right, ending the game. 

7 . Scalp wounds, which may have been self-inflicted, will not prove fatal 
to Charles Van Nevry, 72 years of age. 

Mr. Van Nevry is at the Atchison hospital, under the care of Dr. Charles 
Robinson, county physician. A portion of his left ear is torn away, his 
scalp around the ear is lacerated considerably, and his head considerably 
powder burned, above the ear. 

The wounds were inflicted with a .38 caliber Smith & Wesson revolver, at 
the Van Nevry home, 107 East Atchison street, at 6:40 yesterday morning. 

Police officers who were called by neighbors found the revolver hidden 
under a blanket in the Van Nevry home, covered with blood. One of the 
three cartridges in the gun had been exploded. 

Mr. Van Nevry declares that he did not shoot himself. He stated to 
Chief of Police Willard Linville yesterday that he was sleeping when the 
shot was fired and that the first he knew of it was when he felt the sudden 
pain. He does not suspect anyone of shooting him, maintaining that he 
does not know just what did occur. 

Police are of the opinion that Mr. Van Nevry either shot himself inten¬ 
tionally, or rolled onto the gun, while asleep, in such a way that the gun 
was discharged. His head is severely powder burned, indicating that the 
gun muzzle was only a few inches from his skin. 

Dr. Robinson stated yesterday afternoon that Mr. Van Nevry can leave 
the hospital at any time, and that he is suffering no other ill effects than the 
scalp wounds and a nervous spell. 


THE STRUCTURE OF A NEWS STORY 


127 


Mr. Van Nevry came to Atchison about four months ago, from Fairfield, 
Iowa, where he had been a foreman in an ice factory. Some weeks ago he 
suffered a paralytic stroke, which has since prevented his working. He 
has frequently been despondent, neighbors say, and his two little grand¬ 
children, Letha and Viola Sowers, who made their home with him at 107 
East Atchison street, stated yesterday that several days ago he remarked 
to them that he "might as well be dead as living.” Six weeks ago he bought 
a house a block north of his present residence and he has since had 
some trouble in gaining possession of the property, a condition which is 
said to have worried him considerably. Early last week Mr. Van Nevry 
swore to a complaint at the police station, charging Ed. McGowan, colored, 
with trespassing on the property; but Mr. Van Nevry took sick before the 
case was tried, and the charge was dropped by the police, and McGowan 
released. 

Police found two revolvers in the Van Nevry home. One of them was 
the one with which Mr. Van Nevry was shot; the other was an Iver John¬ 
son .38, and was not loaded. 

Viola Sowers, the older of the two granddaughters, was in the yard when 
she heard the shot, and Letha Sowers was in an adjoining room. Both 
rushed into the room where their grandfather was lying on the bed, his 
head in a pool of blood. They called the neighbors and the police, and the 
injured man was rushed to the hospital. 

Until a few days ago a Mrs. Julia June, a sister-in-law, 76 years of age, 
lived with Mr. Van Nevry. She went back to Iowa, leaving him alone with 
the two little girls, 15 and 12 years of age. Eight years ago Mr. Van Nevry 
lived on a farm near Nortonville, and previous to that time he had a livery 
stable in Falls City. He also lived in Atchison some years ago, on West 
Commercial street. 

Steps are being taken by Atchison county authorities to place the two 
Sowers girls in the State Orphans’ home, at least temporarily, as their 
grandfather is not and will not be able to take care of them, for some 
time to come. 

8 . "A stitch in time saves nine,” and when this is applied to the repair of 
improved highways, it means the savings of hundreds of thousands of dol¬ 
lars a year to taxpayers. 

Building the highest types of improved highways and then promptly 
forgetting them, expecting them to provide their full measure of economic 
service without further attention, must stop. This, in effect, is the demand 
of the United States government as expressed in the recently enacted fed¬ 
eral aid bill providing $75,000,000 for road building in 1922. 

The provisions for compulsory maintenance in the new federal aid bill 
is one of its most important features. In harmony with the spirit of the 
President’s first message to congress, in which he deprecated the fail- 


128 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 

ure to give proper attention to roads after construction, the new act lays 
a heavy penalty upon failure to maintain roads to be constructed with fed¬ 
eral aid. 

The act defines "maintenance” in its broadest sense as "the constant 
making of needed repairs to preserve a smooth-surfaced highway.” 

To insure that each highway aided by the government will receive that 
kind of maintenance, the act provides that the secretary of agriculture shall 
serve notice upon any state which allows a road to suffer for lack of 
maintenance. 

If within 8 days after notice proper attention has not been given to 
the road, the secretary is authorized to proceed to maintain it himself, and 
to charge the cost against the federal funds alloted to that state. The sec¬ 
retary is further ordered to refuse to approve any other project in the state 
until the amount spent for maintenance of the project in question has been 
refunded by the state. When the money is paid back it is to be reappor¬ 
tioned among all of the states so that the delinquent state will lose all but 
a small portion. 

Even the highest types of pavement require maintenance at some time or 
other, but some more than others. A concrete pavement will crack at ir¬ 
regular intervals, and these cracks must be treated to keep the pavement 
from quickly disintegrating. Bituminous pavements may roll up and de¬ 
velop bad spots occasionally, which spots must be cleaned out and restored. 
In brick pavements there are times when some structural defect needs to be 
remedied to prevent impairment of the surface. In case of secondary pave¬ 
ment types, including the macadam family, periodic restoration and re¬ 
construction are necessary since the advent of motor driven vehicles. 

It is, therefore, to the interest of the various states: 

1. To consider, in the selection of pavement types, the question of cost 
of maintenance over the entire life of the pavement, rather than the first 
cost alone. 

2. To keep all pavements in a good state of repair. 

3. To keep complete, detailed and accurate records of maintenance costs 
on all types of pavements. 

A number of states, as, for example, Ohio, Illinois, Massachusetts, and New 
York already are keeping such maintenance records, separating the cost on 
the surface proper from the cost on ditches, shoulders, bridges and signs. 

In Illinois, for instance, brick and concrete types are listed as follows in 
the last report of the state highway commission, the figures showing the aver¬ 
age cost for one year of repairing the surface of a mile of 18-foot roadway: ‘ 


Concrete, cement.$42.24 

Brick, all types. 6.33 


In Ohio, the records are even more complete, revealing the following 
maintenance costs for one year and per mile of all widths: 




THE STRUCTURE OF A NEWS STORY 


129 


Brick, rigid types. 

. $23.00 

Concrete, cement. 

98.00 

Gravel, rolled. 

. 313-00 

Concrete, bituminous. 

• 345 -oo 

Macadam, waterbound. 

. 381.00 

Macadam, bituminous. 

- 385.00 


With the government now adding its influence to promote proper main¬ 
tenance, it is thought that an increased interest in the keeping of such 
records will result in great saving to the taxpayers. 

9 . C. A. Anderson was elected county superintendent of the schools of 
Jefferson county for a term of four years by the school directors of the 
* various districts of the county in convention in the Court House on Tues¬ 
day afternoon as anticipated. There was no opposition to his election. 
Each one of the directors present voted for him when the roll was called, 
a total of 80 being recorded in his favor to "none for Nobody.” The vote 
was a wonderful personal tribute. 

Miss Anna E. Kyle will be retained by Prof. Anderson as his assistant, 
and another assistant was allowed Prof. Anderson, as the population of 
Jefferson county is sufficient to allow two assistants by law. Motions pro¬ 
viding for the payment of $300 over the minimum salaries were carried in 
dealing with each one of the officials. Prof. Anderson announced that he 
would reappoint Miss Kyle, and that Prof. C. E. Wilson, supervising prin¬ 
cipal of Brookville schools, would be tendered the other position. Mr. Wil¬ 
son had announced to the Board of Education of Brookville on Monday 
that he would not be a candidate for re-election next year in the Brook¬ 
ville schools. 

Prof. Wilson has been head of the Brookville schools for eleven terms, 
and has made an enviable record. Previous to coming to Brookville he 
was for seven years the head of the Brockwayville public schools. During 
the past few summers he has been a member of the faculty of the summer 
school of Clarion State Normal school. 

After Secretary W. H. Moore of Reynoldsville had called all the names, 
Prof. Anderson was applauded when he was called upon by Chairman J. P. 
Jones of Summerville, to speak. The keynote of his inaugural address was 
that the "standard of the schools in Jefferson county must be raised.” He 
said that the responsibility for putting the schools on a firmer financial 
basis was one of the most important things for directors to consider in the 
light of sound business. 

Tribute to the work of Miss Kyle was paid for loyalty, help and splen¬ 
did assistance, and thanks was also extended the directors, patrons and the 
press for their assistance during the past years. 

"There are many new advanced standards in school legislation. In or¬ 
der to measure up to them it is absolutely necessary that we raise the edu- 










130 ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 

cational standard of our teaching force. We are going to build up a 
teaching force of which we can justly be proud. Our office is open to you 
directors at all times to give you assistance and counsel in bettering con¬ 
ditions for the children. 

"Let us remember that whatever we do the interests of the children 
should be placed first. The door of their future should be opened by the 
unselfishly-offered key of education—the portal should not be kept closed 
by the bolt of selfish-bred ignorance.” 

The work of the Red Cross nurses in the schools was spoken of as "serv¬ 
ice of the very highest type.” The remittances from the schools have done 
their bit toward making the work a success. 

Prof. Anderson said that all of the school districts would receive the first 
half of their appropriation for the current year in a few weeks unless some-* 
thing unforeseen happens. This would include all state monies up to and 
including July i, under the Edmonds act and transportation acts. This 
does not include transportation or maintenance of vocational schools or 
districts. This announcement was based upon a letter received from the 
state department of public instruction. 

Booklets offering suggestion for the planning of budgets for school dis¬ 
tricts were distributed as well as report books for the districts. Prof. An¬ 
derson emphasized the point that funds allotted for a certain item in a 
budget could not be turned over for another purpose without official ac¬ 
tion of the board. The making of a budget is required by law for the 
school districts. 

L. E. Bartlett, of West Warsaw, nominated Prof. Anderson, saying "the 
way in which he has filled the office of county superintendent speaks louder 
than any words I can give.” S. C. Beeman, of Union township in making 
the first seconding speech, said that Prof. Anderson had "always been ready 
to co-operate with the school authorities.” Charles H. Irvin, of Big Run, 
candidate for assembly, who has known Prof. Anderson intimately for years, 
since he was at the head of the Big Run schools, said "I have known him 
for a long time and I have not found him wanting in any particular.” 

E. A. Reed, of Reynoldsville, moved that the nominations be closed and 
Anderson’s work was thus endorsed. 


III. Skeletons of News Stories 

Here are some detached facts which may be used in building 
short news stories. Some details you will suppress altogether as 
unessential or as mere hearsay; others you will elaborate, as you 
see fit. In almost every specimen there is opportunity for graphic, 
informing writing and a place for fresh treatment of the facts. 


THE STRUCTURE OF A NEWS STORY 


I3i 

The first paragraph should summarize the entire story, bringing 
out the important news feature, usually the most noteworthy of 
the recital. The rest of the story should give concrete details in 
support of the general statement at the beginning. 

Most of these are first-day stories; a few contain follow-up 
possibilities which may be made into second-day stories. This is 
particularly true of reports of sudden occurrences. Watch also for 
opportunities to employ the suspended-interest lead. 

Some of the stories relating to crime and the activities of crim¬ 
inals may be written in such a way as to exert a wholesome, deter¬ 
rent influence upon the minds of readers; see what you can do to 
inject this constructive quality into such reports. 

The instructor has attempted to compile as many different types 
of newspaper stories as seem best adapted to classroom work. 
Each will require somewhat different handling. In many instances 
the facts have not been changed, but have been set down just as 
they have been printed in large city dailies. Frequently, however, 
it has been thought advisable to substitute fictitious names and 
places and to take some liberty with details. 

1 . A sharp curve caused an accident last evening that might have been 
fatal to at least one member of an automobile party. Patrolman E. P. 
Walters, who investigated the accident, was of the opinion that the driver, 
Edwin F. Concord, of 457 Wabash street, Springfield, did not appreciate 
the sharpness of the curve. Mr. Concord with two women and one other 
man were driving down Sargent street, Oakdale, in Mr. Concord’s Packard 
chummy roadster at 11:40 last night. They crashed into a post on the 
north side of the street, wrecking the car badly, so that it had to be towed 
to the Hampton garage for repairs. One of the women was cut about the 
face by the flying glass from the broken windshield. At the Oakdale 
Pharmacy she was given first aid. The accident occurred about 75 feet 
from Malden Avenue. (Supply women’s names.) 

2 . In 1919 Mrs. P. M. Miller, of the Seneca hotel, owned a piece of 
property at Tenth and Greenleaf Streets, which she was anxious to sell. 
When the school board began looking for a site for the Lowell school, F. P. 
Jones, a grocer and member of the board, said "in a joking way” that he 
would help to obtain the sale for $1000. The school board bought the 
property for $9495, and Mrs. Miller sent Jones a check for $500 with a 
note saying that this was the sum she would have to pay a real estate man. 
This information was obtained from the affidavit of Mrs. Miller. Mr. 
Jones was arrested today on the charge of accepting a "present” of $500 


1 3 2 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 

in connection with the purchase of the site, an offense which is punishable 
by a year or less in the county jail. Mr. Jones claims that he can show 
that he is in no way guilty of accepting money for any transaction con¬ 
nected with school affairs. He was released on a $2500 bond. 

3 . Capt. Aaron Braymer, a Californian, who served in France, yester¬ 
day reported a theft to the police. While a pilot in the French Air Service 
in 1917, he was shot down and lost an arm and leg. After that he became 
a ground officer in the Royal Air Force, and received the Legion of Honor 
ribbon, Croix de Guerre with palm, and D. S. 0 . He is rooming at 69 East 
75th street and looking for work. While out job-hunting a thief stole the 
captain’s clothing and his wooden arm. 

4 . Several persons who were standing in line to vote at the Congdon 
school last Tuesday were bitten by a mad dog. It is expected that the 
board of health will take steps to treat those who were attacked by the dog, 
since an analysis of the animal’s head shows that he was suffering from an 
advanced case of rabies. Dr. Howard Luther, director of the division of 
animal industry of the department of conservation, supervised the analysis 
which was conducted at the Harvard Medical School. Dr. Luther an¬ 
nounced today that the dog had rabies. 

5 . Hilda Morris, 214 Hickory alley, answered an advertisement for a 
domestic, and on December n obtained employment in the household of 
Mr. and Mrs. George Durflinger, 1482 Claremont avenue. She worked on 
this job only three days, but in that time took many dollars worth of jew¬ 
elry, silverware and clothing. Miss Morris obtained work later in the home 
of Mrs. Roslyn Fox, 1512 Convent avenue, and also took many valuables 
there. Some of these things she gave to a man who works on a steamship 
and who took them with him when he sailed early last week. To the fami¬ 
lies she had robbed she sent "Merry Christmas” telegrams. By means of 
these telegrams two detectives traced her to the steamship piers near New 
York. From her former employers they obtained a photograph of Miss 
Morris and by aid of this they arrested her on charges of grand larceny. 

6. Yesterday John Firestone, a farmer who lives about five miles from 
Nokomis, Illinois, found blood on his straw stack nearest the road, and 
discovered the body of a murdered man concealed in the stack. There was 
no blood on the snow, but the snow on the body indicated that the murder 
occurred before Saturday. The man had been struck on the head and had 
been dead several days. He was identified as Matthew E. Clark of Noko¬ 
mis, who has been giving information to State’s Attorney Dawson in con¬ 
nection with the $95,000 payroll robbery which occurred at Kincaid on 
August 15 last. M. J. Clark and Joe Clark of Kincaid and Taylorville, 
cousins of the murdered man, were arrested in connection with the payroll 
robbery and released on bonds. Matthew E. Clark was to be a witness 
against his cousins. 


THE STRUCTURE OF A NEWS STORY 


133 


7 . A warrant charging Frank G. Sherer, 876 West State street, 53 years 
old, with embezzling $1500 from the Benevolent Order of Freemen, was 
taken out by Albert F. Zero, secretary of the court. Sherer was formerly 
treasurer of court No. 235. Detectives read the warrant to Sherer in his 
room in an apartment in an eight apartment building he is said to own at 
4700 Lake avenue. "Can you delay this until morning?” he asked Ser¬ 
geants Hugh McGregor and Frank Josephs of the Clark street station. 
"Then wait until I get my coat,” he requested, when answered in the nega¬ 
tive. He stepped into an adjoining room. A moment later a shot was 
heard. The detectives found him dead, a bullet hole in his temple and a 
revolver clutched in his right hand. 

8. A note for Harold G. Brian, chief of police, saying that she was lonely 
and was going away was found at the home of Mrs. Amy N. Raymond, 47 
years old, of 1247 East 35th street, East Orange, N. J. She left her home 
last night and no trace of her has been discovered. The supposition of her 
friends is that she did not commit suicide. She asked Brian to collect the 
rent for her from tenants on the first floor of her house. Two years ago 
her husband disappeared and it is believed that Mrs. Raymond was unable 
to endure her loneliness. She left without giving any hint as to where she 
was going. 

9 . Last night, according to Detectives Tromer and O’Brien, a beautiful 
and richly dressed woman was seen to make a sale of drugs to a man who 
said he was Harry Volvine, 36 years old, of 897 Englewood avenue. The 
detectives arrested Volvine and upon searching his pockets found a pack¬ 
age of cocaine. Tromer followed the woman for about a block and arrested 
her. She had been under suspicion for some time, but every time detec¬ 
tives stopped her they failed to find sufficient evidence for holding her. 
The police say they think she has been acting for persons higher up. 
Tromer was unable to find any of the packages of cocaine on her, but found 
the drug concealed under the blanket of a white poodle dog she was leading. 
She gave her name as Mrs. Robert Duncan, 179 East Broad street. Her 
husband is manager of the Firestone Valve Company. (Second-day story 
may be made on illicit sales of cocaine.) 

10 . A fire early today completely destroyed the farmhouse of Mrs. 
Mamie Walker, two miles south of Lansing city limits. Mrs. Cora Elsnick 
of Lansing and her three children were visiting the Walker family. The 
fire started from an explosion caused by Mrs. Walker’s pouring kerosene 
into a kitchen stove to start a fire. Mrs. Walker is not expected by hospi¬ 
tal authorities to recover. Her husband, and children, and Mrs. Elsnick and 
her children were burned to death in their beds. Henry Jenski, 24, a 
boarder at the home, jumped from a second-story window, his clothing 
ablaze. His condition is serious. Another boarder escaped uninjured by 
jumping from the window. 


134 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 


11 . A man with a brown moustache, wearing tortoise shell-rimmed glasses, 
about 30 years old and about 5 feet 5 inches tall, has been described to the 
pupils of all schools in the Eastern district and to the police, in the hope of 
catching him as the thief who stole a small boy’s overcoat. A stranger 
standing in front of 475 Elm street, Brooklyn, offered Carl Meyer, a 10 
year old boy, a quarter to run upstairs and bring down "Joe’s wet wash.” 
"Let me hold your overcoat so you won’t get it wet,” the man suggested, 
as Carl sped off to earn the extra quarter for Christmas shopping. Carl 
peeled off his coat, handed it to the stranger and ran up the steps. When 
he returned a few minutes later to report that the woman to whom he had 
been directed didn’t know anything about "Joe’s wet wash,” both stranger 
and overcoat had disappeared. Carl had been congratulating himself only 
a few minutes before on the possession of a warm overcoat for the winter. 

12 . Emory Curtis was born in St. Lawrence county in New York. After 
graduating from the Columbia University law school, he practised law in 
the Williamsburg section of Brooklyn. He was first appointed assistant 
district attorney by Fred L. Block, and then by James Corby, two years 
later. District Attorney Lewin suggested Mr. Curtis as his successor, the 
appointment to become effective January 1. In view of this fact, Mr. 
Curtis has been working very hard to get his own office in readiness for the 
change. His doctor warned him if he did not rest and take more exercise 
he would have a nervous breakdown. All day yesterday he had been re¬ 
ceiving the congratulations of his friends on the news that the governor 
was to appoint him to succeed Henry Lewin, and his callers noticed that he 
seemed weighed down with weariness. Once at his office during the day he 
had expressed the desire that little be said of the prospective promotion. 
After coming home from a matinee, Mrs. Curtis and a visitor heard the re¬ 
port of a pistol in the upstairs room and then the noise of a falling body. 
They found Curtis on the floor of his bedroom in the Brooklyn home. Dr. 
Mark Henley said that death was instantaneous. Mr. Lewin said that Mr. 
Curtis was a great prosecutor and that he was inexpressibly shocked by 
his death. 

13 . It is impossible to estimate the extent of the illicit trade in whiskey 
that is going on in the region of the Portland Navy Yard, but every sailor 
questioned had a story to tell of some friend who was "knocked cold” by 
the drink. The officials of the Navy Y. M. C. A. denounce the bootleggers. 
They said that every day sailors came in suffering from bad whiskey. Dur¬ 
ing the past week seven unconscious sailors suffering from alcoholic poison¬ 
ing have been removed from the rooms of the Naval Y. M. C. A. on Bond 
Street, where they had gone after drinking the poisonous liquor. Third 
Class Fireman Charles J. Brown, of the receiving ship Padros, on leave with 
other sailors, met a bootlegger on Bond street who offered a "shot of 
hootch” for fifty cents. A half hour after Brown took the drink he fell 
unconscious. His friends tried to revive him, and failing took him to the 


THE STRUCTURE OF A NEWS STORY 


135 

Naval "Y.” He was later removed to the Naval hospital where physicians 
said he had been dead an hour. Brown was 26 years old and had an excel¬ 
lent record in the navy. The cause of death was pronounced as "an acci¬ 
dental fall and acute alcoholic poisoning.” The extent of the illicit trade 
and its deadly effects has aroused the naval authorities. The death of 
Brown is the only one on record. 

14 . Last night before students of the Medill School of Journalism Mr. 
Ashton Stevens, the dramatic critic of the Chicago Her aid-Examiner, de¬ 
livered one of the most interesting of the series of Talks from the Lab¬ 
oratory. His subject was "Dramatic Criticism in the Daily Newspaper.” 
In discussing the critic’s life, he said in part, "You will find that a great 
many things on the stage try to be musical comedies, but just what a musi¬ 
cal comedy is today I couldn’t tell you if my life depended on it. Musical 
comedy is supposed to be something that is neither an operetta nor a revue, 
but that is only an academic supposition. The American theatre like the 
American newspaper is a little bit of everything.” Booth Hall, where the 
lecture was given, was packed with listeners, many standing up, so that 
Mr. Stevens got a good idea what the S. R. 0 . sign meant, when applied 
to his own drawing power as a speaker. 

15 . A radio telephone apparatus sells for about $25 and is capable of 
picking up wireless reports within a radius of 25 or 30 miles. Today from 
the Westinghouse station in Newark was broadcasted the first radio-phone 
market reports for farmers. From now on, at noon and at 6 p. m., the New 
York State Department of Farms and Markets will send its quotations on 
potatoes, cabbage, celery, onions, carrots, apples, eggs, butter, cheese, hay 
and other farm products to the Newark station, to be relayed to the 
farmers. The evening report will include the closing market for the prod¬ 
ucts in the New York market and information from other large markets 
of the country, as received over the leased telegraph wire system of the 
Federal Bureau of Markets. Any farmer within 100 miles may listen in 
on all the market news, if he has a complete receiving outfit. 

16 . More than 500 rooters from Tarrytown came over in a special train 
to see the annual Tarrytown-Thermopolis basketball game which was 
played in the First Regiment armory. Included among the rooters were 
the mayor, the superintendent of schools, Maj. H. F. Schroeder of the 
National Guard, and almost the entire high school student body. The 
Tarrytown Silver Cornet band rendered appropriate music for the occasion. 
Thermopolis was out 1000 strong to see the game. After the finish, 
the Thermopolis rooters gave nine "rahs” for Tarrytown, and Tarrytown 
returned the compliment. Ted Haines, shifty guard of the Tarrytown quin¬ 
tet, was the star of the evening, as he not only held his man to one basket, 
but also made five field goals himself. Ike Beavers, running forward for 
Thermopolis, played a shifty game, and frequently worked the ball down 


136 ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 

the floor for a basket. Bill Rogers, forward and captain of the Tarrytown 
team, was unable to play, which was probably one of the big factors 
contributing to Thermopolis’ 30 to 20 victory. Coach Crane said Friday’s 
game showed that the locals are of championship caliber, and he believed 
they have an excellent chance to win the state title. 

17 . Fred Smith, a young colored man, got into a fight with an Italian, 
Pietro Nazimpi, who was employed as a molder in a foundry, and as a 
result the Italian killed him with a stiletto. Bystanders say the two began 
arguing on the relative merits of their races. Nazimpi knocked down a 
policeman who tried to arrest him and ran down an alley. He has not been 
found. Smith lived at 897 Hawthorne avenue. He had a wife. Nazimpi 
lives in the house next door. 

18 . While working on the roof of the plant of the National Carbon com¬ 
pany at the North End this morning, George Williams slipped and fell to 
the ground. The city ambulance took him to Mercy hospital, where it was 
found that he was suffering from internal injuries. Grave fears are enter¬ 
tained for his recovery. Williams is married and lives at 348 Mellins Ter¬ 
race. He suffered a similar accident eight months ago. Yesterday was 
Friday the 13th. 

19 . Large refrigerator in the plant of Armour & Co., packers, has an 
automatic catch which locks the door as soon as it closes. Two men, Tom 
Simpson and George Shellenback, carried in some meat late one afternoon 
and the ice-box closed upon them. Nobody heard their cries for help. 
When they were almost frozen and suffocated an employee happened to 
return, heard them and rescued the two men. 

20 . A tight-rope walker of 15 years’ experience failed to walk the rope 
between the stores of B. N. Higgins and G. H. Brown in Lincoln avenue 
last night as scheduled. He was indisposed. A great crowd had gathered, 
but was disappointed. His name is Signor Deletto Zabriski and he is of 
royal blood. As he was getting out of bed in the morning he fell and 
sprained his right ankle. 

21 . Barber commits suicide by hanging himself in a barn in the rear of his 
home, 9873 Dover street. His wife had left a note saying she had eloped 
with another man. He was 45 years old and had two children. Before his 
suicide he went to the barber shop, had his hair cut and was shaved. He told 
C. W. Eliot, who shaved him, that he " wanted to look well when dead.” His 
name was John W. Bendure and he came here from Germany ten years ago. 

22 . A daring train robbery occurred on the Southern Pacific. The Over¬ 
land Limited was held up by two masked bandits at a little station nine 
miles west of Ogden, Utah. The robbery was planned and executed with a 
cool daring. Two porters who refused to obey orders were shot down by 
the bandits. Pullman passengers were relieved of all their valuables. 
Robbers then made their escape on horseback. Posse in pursuit, but have 


THE STRUCTURE OF A NEWS STORY 


137 

no clew. Logs had been piled on the track and the train signaled to stop by 
means of a red bandanna handkerchief waved by one of the robbers. 

23 . Fred Blass, a farmer, was on his way home from the city. In some 
manner he failed to note the approach of an interurban car from the east 
and drove on the track just as the car dashed up to the crossing. The crew, 
evidently thinking that he would wait until the car had passed, did not 
come to a stop. Just as Blass had driven the horses clear of the track the 
collision came. Both animals were freed from the rig, and the wagon was 
whirled partly around and badly splintered and Blass thrown out. 

He was taken to his home. It is reported that his injuries are not serious. 
No report of the accident has as yet been received at the local offices of the 
company. The car was manned by a Sharon crew. The car, it is said, was 
approaching on a long stretch of straight track at the time the smash-up 
occurred. 

24 . Miss Georgiana Robinson, a Chicago school teacher, went to Atlantic 
City recently to attend an educational meeting. While there she went in 
bathing and was carried out beyond her depth. Her cries for help brought 
to her rescue George Fiegenbaum, a young traveling man of Kalamazoo, 
Michigan. He was a strong swimmer and soon brought her to the beach, 
where restoratives were applied by anxious friends. A warm friendship 
sprang up between the rescuer and the rescued. Their marriage is an¬ 
nounced for next Tuesday in the Presbyterian church. 

25 . Owl car No. 256 on the Belt Line was approaching Linwood avenue 
last night at midnight. Three passengers were on the car, which was in 
charge of S. B. Lindenberg and John H. Parker, motorman and conductor 
respectively. Suddenly two men in masks jumped on the car. With a 
flourish of a pistol one of the men ordered the motorman and conductor to 
run for their lives. The other then proceeded to collect the valuables and 
spare change from the passengers. He got in all about $157. Street car 
officials are making an investigation. The robbers are thought to be youths 
imitating dime-novel heroes. 

26 . A high wind was blowing in the heart of Philadelphia’s business dis¬ 
trict. A huge sign was blown from its fastenings. Two men and one girl 
were struck by the falling sign and almost instantly killed. They did not 
reach the hospital alive, although the ambulance made a hurry run. 

The sign was about 20 feet wide and 10 feet high and stood on the roof 
of a four-story building in the retail shopping district. The street was 
crowded, it being the noon hour. The greater portion of the heavy sign 
landed in the middle of the street. Those caught under the metal wreckage 
were near the curb. A panic ensued, and some one turned in an alarm of 
fire which brought out the firemen, thus adding to the excitement. 

27 . Two young people, Otto Moore, aged 34, and Ruth Kindall, aged 24, 
were out canoeing one afternoon near the mill race. The girl was very 


138 ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 

much fascinated by a field of water lilies and, in spite of warnings on the 
part of her companion, leaned over the side of the canoe, according to a 
story told by an eyewitness. The craft tipped and threw them into the 
water. Both got into the current of the stream and were swept over the 
dam. Both were drowned before rescue could come. They were engaged 
to be married in a week. Miss Kindall was buried in her bridaL gown. 

28 . John W. Simpson, teller in the Madison Avenue National bank, went 
to a small hotel in Bay View last Thursday night and gave orders to the 
clerk that he was not to be called until very late the next morning. At noon 
he had not put in an appearance and did not respond to repeated knocking 
at his door. Finally the door was broken open and the lifeless body of 
Mr. Simpson found upon the bed. He had killed himself with a revolver 
which was still clenched in his right hand. It is said that Mr. Simpson was 
short in his accounts at the bank and that he had been playing the races. 
He was married and had one child. 

29 . Hearing the screams of her children, Mrs. Max Wolke, 3245 East 
Seventeenth street, rushed into the kitchen yesterday just in time to save 
them from fire which threatened her home. Mrs. Wolke was in the rear 
yard and had left her children, Edward, aged five, and Anna, aged three, 
on the kitchen floor. The children found a box of matches and played with 
them. Their clothes caught fire and the flames spread to the carpet. The 
room was filled with smoke. When Mrs. Wolke arrived the children were 
gasping for breath. She threw water on them and put out the blaze. Mr. 
Wolke is a dry-goods merchant and keeps stock at his home and the damage 
on this will reach $500. 

30 . Mr. and Mrs. Matthews Staff, a newly wedded couple of Helena, 
Montana, and Mr. and Mrs. M. S. Evers, of Hammond, Indiana, went out 
in a gasoline launch on Lake Michigan yesterday. A severe squall arose and 
the launch was disabled. Death was imminent when the women bethought 
themselves of a plan of rescue. They removed their skirts, tore them into 
ribbons, and set fire to them in the hope of attracting attention. The 
flames were seen by surfmen at the South Chicago life-saving station. All 
four were rescued in the nick of time. 

31 . Whether Emma Devill, 17, and Arthur Jordan, 24, met with foul 
play or eloped is the problem the local police were called upon to solve to¬ 
day. The young woman’s mother reported that the couple disappeared 
November 14 on the eve of their wedding. The marriage license had been 
procured and the guests waited long for the arrival of the bride and groom, 
Mrs. Devill believes her daughter has either been slain or kidnaped. 

32 . Andrew Welsh, n years old, climbed a pole yesterday in boyish fun, 
and soon after reaching the top, put his hand on a live wire. His cries of 
pain at once attracted a large crowd who stood watching him as he was 
slowly being roasted to death. At this juncture Patrick Brislin, who lives 


THE STRUCTURE OF A NEWS STORY 


139 


close to the boy’s home in Greenleaf street, climbed up the pole, pulled the 
boy from the wire and bore him, burning and moaning to the ground. The 
boy cried "For God’s sake, put me out, kill me,” as he was being carried 
to the ground. He is badly burned, but Dr. J. A. Boyd of Wabash avenue, 
who attended him, says there are good chances for his recovery. 

33 . Shoe dealers of Harrisburg have organized an association to bring 
about good fellowship and to promote the shoe business. They will rent 
club rooms and install billiard tables and reading facilities. It is also 
planned to advertise systematically in the newspapers and to announce sales 
in shoes from time to time. At the meeting last night the advertising of 
large city concerns was condemned. The dealers declared that shoddy 
goods were being palmed off on customers who left Harrisburg to do their 
shopping. The following officers were elected: Isidore S. Well, of the Well 
& Arnold company, president; Bert Smith, of the J. W. Smith Sons’ com¬ 
pany, vice president; George Cornell, manager of the A. E. Harvey com¬ 
pany, secretary: and Vincent Raub, of V. Raub & Son, treasurer. 

34 . It was a dark, foggy night when the Nickel Plate Limited pulled out 

from the station at S-. The rails were made slippery by ice and sleet. 

The engineer was trying to make up time, when of a sudden a yellow light 
flashed ahead. It was the headlight of another locomotive. Brakes were 
applied, but too late. The two trains came together. Fireman Henry Bohl 
and Engineer John Burgess, of the Limited, jumped in time to save their 
lives. Thirteen passengers on the passenger train were instantly killed, 23 
injured. The freight train was just pulling into the siding when the col¬ 
lision occurred. Orders did not take into consideration the delay caused by 
the icy tracks. Investigations under way. Wild scenes of disorder mingled 
with the screams of the injured and dying. 

35 . Italian laborers were at work at the gravel bank of the Peterson & 
Wright company at Old Forge, near the railroad junction, shoveling the 
gravel through a sieve and into freight cars, preparatory to being shipped 
away. Shortly after the men had started to work Wednesday morning, a 
huge bank of gravel and rocks above them gave way and descended on 
them. All the men managed to escape with the exception of John Nomei- 
suer, aged 30, who was buried under the avalanche. Before his friends 
could help him, he had suffocated. Coroner Davidson found a wallet con¬ 
taining $236, his entire earnings, wrapped about the man’s leg. It is re¬ 
ported that he left a widow and one child in Italy. 

36 . The business section of Granville, Washington county, was swept by 
fire, which started in a Hebrew clothing store in Main street. The reser¬ 
voir which supplies the town with water was practically empty, so the fire¬ 
men, who responded promptly, were unable to cope with the flames. A 
high wind fanned the fire into a fury, driving back the spectators for 200 
feet. Two men and one child, living in a near-by house are known to have 


140 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 

been burned alive. Fire apparatus was brought from surrounding towns, 
but little could be done when it arrived. Miss Bessie Beck, night operator 
at the telephone exchange, stuck to her post and sent calls for help, while 
the flames roared 200 feet away. Loss will reach $250,000. 

37 . Dr. J. W. White, superintendent of the Milwaukee hospital for the 
insane at Wauwatosa, declares music is one of the best mediums he knows 
for the cure of the insane. Experiments have been made with certain musi¬ 
cal selections, such as "Flow Gently, Sweet Afton,” "Dixie,” and "The 
Last Rose of Summer” when patients were violent, with the result that 
they were soon quieted. Those crazy on religious subjects grew more ob¬ 
sessed when devotional melodies were played. It was also discovered that 
certain other melodies were depressing in their effects upon patients. In 
many instances music helped to distract the minds of patients from them¬ 
selves and their mental troubles. Nurses bear testimony to the soundness 
of the theory. 

38 . Many bills, including teachers’ salaries and repairs, were allowed at 
the meeting of the city school board last night. The president, B. H. Fox, 
was in the chair. H. D. Salvage offered an amendment to the building 
plans, suggesting fire escapes on two buildings. Spirited debate followed 
between various members of the board. President was compelled to rap 
for order several times. Scathing remarks of a personal nature exchanged. 
Three new teachers were elected. Plans were made for the installation of 
manual training and domestic science in one of the schools. Another bitter 
argument between the conservatives and the progressives followed. One 
member left the room in a rage. At the conclusion of the meeting Member 
Peter Wycoff and Harold Duncan met in the corridors and started another 
discussion which ended in blows. They were parted by their friends. Small 
likelihood of fire escapes being erected. Interviews. 

39 . Mr. and Mrs. John B. Elving, together with their six children, the 
eldest of whom is 15 years, had made their home in the heart of the forest 
30 miles between Grand Marais, Michigan, and Upper Brule lake. Their 
home was a little cabin made of logs. Not long ago, a fire broke out in the 
woods and soon began to hem them in. Finally, with a small stock of provi¬ 
sions, they beat a hasty retreat. Elving cut limbs from trees on the bank 
of the Brule river and stationed himself and family neck deep in the 
water, underneath a screen of underbush, saturated with water. They 
stayed there an entire day, until the fire burned out. The entire family then 
walked through the forest to Grand Marais. It took them five days to 
cover the distance. Two of the smaller children were saved from drowning 
in the swift current of the Brule river by the family’s Newfoundland dog. 

40 . Three convicts escaped from Sing Sing. Following a rehearsal of 
the prison orchestra, Ralph Taylor, Charles McGinn, and William Rush 
stole into the courtyard, instruments in hand. They beat down two guards 


THE STRUCTURE OF A NEWS STORY 


141 

with a cornet and two flutes and slipped through an open space in the iron 
palings. They crossed the river on ice. Alarm soon given, but fugitives lost 
in the fog. Rush was the life-term prisoner, having been sentenced in 1902 
for murder in New York city. Ralph Taylor, known as the "silk-hat burg¬ 
lar,” was serving a 21-year term for burglary in Westchester county, and 
McGinn was serving a 5-year burglary term. Later—All three were cap¬ 
tured in a haymow ten miles distant by a posse of penitentiary guards. 
Gave battle, but were handicapped by lack of weapons. All three returned 
to the prison. F. H. Green, a farmer, who gave the information, received 
a reward of $150. 

41 . Large convention hall crowded Tuesday night with Sons of St. 

Patrick from several states to celebrate the 25th anniversary of the organi¬ 
zation of the society in-county. 

Decorations were elaborate. Great streamers of green stretched above. 
Tables decorated with shamrock brought from the old country for the oc¬ 
casion. Menu made up of national dishes of Ireland. Orchestra discoursed 
Irish airs from the balcony. 

Eight hundred sat down to the banquet. Edward B. Cathcart was the 
toastmaster. The speaker of the evening was Patrick Dale O’Connor, a 
distinguished Hibernian of Chicago. Mr. O’Connor told some good Irish 
jokes that brought peals of laughter. He spoke of the Irish as substantial 
citizens who had done much to bring industry to America. He touched 
upon Irish statesmen and soldiers and made an eloquent plea for a more 
just recognition of the services of his countrymen. Addresses were also 
made by two local Hibernians. 

42 . Mr. and Mrs. John H. Norris with four children live at Grayson 
Ridge, a small country hamlet ten miles from Homewood. The hired 
man, James Watkins, had gathered what he supposed to be mushrooms one 
afternoon. The fungus was washed, sorted, and stewed by Mrs. Norris. 
All the members of the family ate liberal portions, remarking on the pe¬ 
culiar flavor. Soon afterward all were seized with convulsions, with the 
exception of Watkins, who had eaten very little. Thomas Norris, aged 
13, was not so violently sick and managed to jump on a horse and ride to 
Homewood. After he had gasped out his story to Dr. George Small he 
fell on the floor of the doctor’s office, dying soon afterward. Dr. Small 
telephoned for nurses and an ambulance from St. Luke’s hospital, then 
drove to the Norris home. He found Mrs. Norris on the floor, with face 
distorted. By her side lay her husband, also in great suffering. Two little 
girls clung to each other, while another was already dead. By heroic work 
the life of one daughter, Madge, aged 15, was saved. The others died be¬ 
fore they could be taken to the hospital, although the stomach pump was 
used. Great sorrow enshrouds Grayson Ridge, where the family was promi¬ 
nent in church and social life. Watkins has disappeared. (This story af¬ 
fords opportunity to include a warning on gathering toadstools.) 


142 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 


43 . The scene of the wedding is the Washburn homestead at Tuxedo 
Park, Longview. The bride is Miss Marcella Washburn, leader of the 
younger set of society folk, a graduate of Smith College in the class of 1922. 
She is an accomplished musician and had several pictures in the exhibition 
of water-color paintings at the Philadelphia exhibition. She was awarded 
a silver cup at a recent tennis tournament. The bridegroom is Robert B. 
Gary, a young business man of Muncie, Indiana. He is a graduate of 
Wabash College, class of 1917. Member of the Beta Theta Pi fraternity. 
While in college was noted as an athlete. Met Miss Washburn in a tennis 
tournament for amateur championship honors and played doubles with her 
as partner, defeating all comers. 

Elaborate preparations for the wedding. Huge bell of white flowers; 
masses of roses banked the room. Episcopal service used. Rev. Dudley 

H. Frisbie, rector of-, officiated at the ceremony. Many attendants. 

Bride’s gown of unusual beauty. Elaborate wedding supper followed the 

ceremony, which took place at 6 o’clock. The bride’s father, -, gave 

her $10,000 as a wedding gift. Will take a European tour as a honeymoon. 

44 . Fire broke out in the factory of the Monarch Celluloid Collar com¬ 
pany, Fourth and Hanover streets. Girls crowded together on the top story 
of this structure. No fire escape. Four were panic-stricken and jumped to 
their death, despite the warnings of the firemen who were putting up lad¬ 
ders. Seven were injured by glass and falling debris. Some jumped into 
the life-saving nets; others were brought down by the firemen. At the 
time of the explosion of celluloid, fifty people were working in the factory. 
The floors were piled with collars being boxed for the market. Suddenly 
a shaft of light leaped up, ignited the pile and communicated to the floor 
above. Wild panic; girls fainted; flames roared up the elevator shafts. 
Stairways blazed. One exciting feature of the fire was the appearance of 
Hazel Jordan at an open window. Across the narrow court was a jewelry 
shop, with a window open in the third story. The girl jumped into the 
window. The crowd below was stupefied, then cheered. Loss of the fac¬ 
tory will reach $85,000, partly insured. Structure condemned by building 
inspectors for not having fire escapes. Suits for damages contemplated. 
Ambulances took the girls to morgue, after bodies were recovered from 
the ruins. Sorrowing relatives gathered around the ruins seeking their 
friends. Company will rebuild in the spring. 

45 . The Island Queen was a boat plying between New York and Coney 
Island, and was used during the summer season to carry passengers from 
the city to the island. It was about 230 feet long and had three decks. 
The captain was Robert H. Davidson and the owners Coney Island Trans¬ 
portation company. The capacity of the boat was 2000. It was built in 
1882 and had never been repaired since. Its engines had rusted boilers. 
On the afternoon of July 20, the boat was loaded with 3000 people, 
overtaxing its capacity and in violation of navigation laws. It was crossing 


THE STRUCTURE OF A NEWS STORY 


143 


the ocean when the boiler blew up, killing three men in the engine room. 
Large hole rammed in side of the boat. Fire added terror to the scene. 
Mad scramble for life preservers. There were only a few, and these were 
useless and rotten. Only two boats were available, and these were soon 
sunk by the people who swarmed into them. Explosion had killed some of 
the passengers on the bow and injured others. Boat rapidly sinking. Great 
confusion. Many jumped into the water. At last a tugboat came to the 
rescue; also another passenger boat. Passengers rescued with difficulty. 
Twenty-four people were missing. Ten bodies were recovered. Investiga¬ 
tions are under way to fix the blame for the disaster. Negligence charged. 
Bodies of the dead were brought home on a tugboat. Great grief awaited 
them on the docks surrounding the fateful scene. Island Queen too badly 
wrecked to be repaired. Will be sold for junk. 

46 . Man wearing the cap of a gas inspector and carrying a lighted lantern 
entered the home of Mrs. Rudolph Sprague in East Douglas avenue at 4 
o’clock Tuesday afternoon. He told the servant at the door he had come 
to see the gas meter. Rapidly ascending the stairs, the ruffian made his way 
to the room of Mrs. Sprague, who is the wife of the president of the Mer¬ 
chants’ National bank, and held her up at the muzzle of a revolver. 

Mrs. Sprague, terror stricken, yielded to him $45,000 in jewelry, includ¬ 
ing a magnificent diamond brooch given her by Mr. Sprague as a wedding 
present. The man swore at her and beat a retreat. Mrs. Sprague fainted. 

When she was revived she told her story, and the police were notified. 
A description of the thief was given them. Late at night he was captured as 
he was boarding a coal train. The diamonds were found in his coat pocket. 

Mrs. Sprague had a similar experience while attending a theater a year 
ago. She wore the diamonds, and as she was getting into her automobile at- 
the end of the performance a man pushed forward and clutched the gems. 
Bystanders wrestled with him, but he fled up the alley without the dia¬ 
monds. He is said to be the same man who planned the robbery of Tuesday. 

At the police station the man gave his name as Richard Robinson, a stone 
mason. He declared he had admired the diamonds for a long time. He 
wanted money to cover his wedding expenses. 

47 . A well-dressed man entered the cigar store of Charles Ross, 192 
North State street, Chicago, and asked for a cigar. He threw down what ap¬ 
peared to be a silver half dollar on the rubber mat on the show case. Ross 
was formerly a secret-service detective and detected the coin as counter¬ 
feit. He said: "That is bad money and you know it.” He picked up the 
coin and broke it into three pieces. The stranger expressed surprise and 
said he had no more change with him, but would step out and get some 
from a friend. Ross telephoned the Chicago Avenue police station. He 
then stepped to the door and watched the man, who was shortly joined by 
a companion. Two detectives, Captain Swift and Sergeant Stone, re¬ 
sponded. They shadowed the two men and finally arrested them on Chicago 


144 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 


avenue. They made a complete confession and said they would find the 
counterfeits at No. 84 Cass street. The detectives entered a room in the 
attic of the four-story building at that number, just as the counterfeiter 
was pouring molten lead into dies; nearby was a box filled with spurious 
25- and 50-cent coins. The man was startled by their entrance. As he was 
very quiet the officers began searching the room, paying little attention to 
him. While they were overhauling the contents of a bureau drawer, the 
prisoner made a dash for the door and escaped. He was closely followed 
but disappeared around a corner. They searched the neighborhood until 
dark but could not find him. Everything in the room was confiscated, in¬ 
cluding dies and counterfeiting outfit, with several boxes of 25- and 
50-cent coins, almost perfect imitations of real coins. 


CHAPTER VI 


TYPES OF NEWS STORIES 

§1 

BREVITIES 

The personal appeal. Every newspaper, whether a small-town 
weekly or a metropolitan daily, is called upon to print a multitude 
of somewhat trivial items relating to the experiences of a single 
person or a small group of persons. Such wisps of information are 
known as personals or brevities, and have a real appeal to a large 
family of readers, particularly in the smaller towns, where the 
bonds of acquaintance are much firmer than in the vast urban 
centers of population. 

From the point of view of the newspaper make-up brevities 
serve a useful function, since they may follow the longer stories, 
filling in the broken columns, and thus give the paper the appear¬ 
ance of variety and newsiness. To call them fillers, however, is not 
to appreciate their importance as nuggets of news. 

Two glaring faults are to be found in many items published 
by carelessly edited newspapers. The first is that the items are 
barren of real news, owing sometimes to the insignificance of the 
happening recorded, but more often to the lack of curiosity on the 
part of the news-gatherer himself. The real news has been neg¬ 
lected, and the item compressed into a time-worn setting quite 
devoid of interest. For example, examine this colorless, vaguely 
phrased brevity: 

Miss Eva K. Ames was called to her former 
home in Aurora yesterday by an accident in 
the family. 

The compactness of the foregoing item is not a merit, because 
the real news has been entirely overlooked by a stupid reporter. 
It is brief, but inexcusably curt. The adept reporter would not 

145 




14.6 ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 

have been content with such inadequate presentation, but would 
have started in pursuit of every detail that rightfully belongs to 
the announcement of Miss Ames’s departure. His story, when 
completed, would have read somewhat like this: 

Miss Eva K. Ames, teacher in Lincoln high 
school, was called to her former home in 
Aurora yesterday by the serious condition of 
her father, George H. Ames, hardware mer¬ 
chant, who fell from a ladder last Friday, while 
he was picking cherries. His right leg was 
broken, and he received internal injuries that 
have kept him bedfast ever since. He is 72 
years old. 

The revision carries complete information and achieves interest. 

The second fault which spoils many a brevity in the making is 
the tendency to pile up irrelevant and unimportant details, com¬ 
bined with an unrestrained use of flowery, exuberant adjectives. 
Such a practice results in a mass of uninviting sentences—a needle 
of fact in a haystack of words. Many reporters of society news— 
weddings, parties, engagements, social events—transgress in this 
particular. It is always better to state why a party was "delight¬ 
ful,” why a wedding was "beautiful,” than to attempt verbal 
pyrotechnics. Search should always be made for the striking 
feature for the lead. 

Complete and accurate identification of every person mentioned 
in the news account is imperative; all subsidiary facts should be 
carefully verified and simply presented, without embroidery. 

Some good examples. The following items from the calendar 
of small events may be taken as good models of nicely fashioned 
news stories: 

Mr. and Mrs. John McCarthy, 526 Greenwood boulevard, Evanston, an¬ 
nounce the engagement of their daughter, Miss Lucy McCarthy, to Horace 
Reed Elliott, son of Mr. and Mrs. Horace J. Elliott, 1237 Judson avenue, 
Evanston. The marriage will take place in the summer or autumn. 

Mrs. John Foster presided over an elaborate luncheon yesterday in honor 
of Mrs. Harry H. Pigott of Helena, Mont., the house guest of her sister, 
Mrs. Samuel N. Wood. Covers were laid for the hostess, the honored 
guest, and for Mesdames Crawford Hill, Samuel N. Wood, William B. 




TYPES OF NEWS STORIES 


T 47 


Bethel, James Rae Arneill, George P. Steel, John C. Mitchell, Sherman G. 
Bonney, Joshua Crane, Alex C. Foster, Paul Lanius, Harry Van Mater and 
Charles R. Hurd. 

Frank McCullough, of Benton, Ill., was here for the week end visiting 
among friends. Mr. McCullough is connected with the Central Illinois 
Public Utilities Co., which serves 180 towns in the central portion of the 
state with electric light and power. This company was one of the first to 
go to the rescue of flood sufferers along the Illinois river. A check for 
$1000 was delivered early last week into the hands of relief agencies which 
are furnishing food, clothing and shelter for the victims of the flood at 
Beardstown, Naples and other river towns in that vicinity. 

Many years ago, when steam railroads were in an experimental stage in 
Southern Kentucky, James L. Johnson of Allen Springs, Simpson county, 
who is now 91 years old, made a solemn vow that he would never ride 
on a train. 

Mr. Johnson was tempted last week to break his vow, but the automo¬ 
bile came to his aid and enabled him to keep faith with himself. He has 
always been averse to leaving home, but a few days ago went to visit his 
grandson,- Claude Meredith, in Frankfort. Although the distance is con¬ 
siderably more than a hundred miles the nonagenarian made his long trip 
overland in an automobile. 

Harry F. Sinclair, chairman of the board of the Sinclair Consolidated 
Oil corporation, who is rushing to his home here from Mexico City because 
of the serious illness of his son, Harry F. Sinclair Jr., is expected home on 
Thursday. At the family home, 2 East Seventy-ninth street, it was said 
last night that Mr. Sinclair left Mexico City at noon yesterday. Mr. Sin¬ 
clair, with other oil men, had been conferring with Mexican government 
officials. He is coming back on a special train with J. W. Van Dyke, presi¬ 
dent of the Atlantic Refining company. 

The Sinclair boy was operated on Sunday for double mastoids. It was 
said last night that he was much improved. Dr. Harmon Smith of 44 West 
Forty-ninth street performed the operation. Dr. Charles Hendee Smith of 
44 East Sixty-first street, child specialist, and Dr. John R. Page of 127 
East Sixty-second street, a consulting physician, were in attendance. 

A complete surprise to their friends in San Francisco was the marriage 
yesterday of Mrs. Corennah de Pue Neville and Robert Elliott of Los 
Angeles, which was solemnized in the Swedenborgian church, the Rev. 
Thomas French officiating. The bride was gowned in cream lace over satin, 
and wore a picture hat of lavender trimmed with blue and lavender flowers. 
She carried a shower bouquet of yellow butterfly orchids. Mrs. Arthur 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 


148 

Goodfellow was the matron of honor and wore a simple frock of gray 
chiffon with a picture hat of silver gray. She carried a bouquet of pink and 
red peonies. William McFee of Los Angeles was the best man. 

Following the marriage, there was an informal reception and wedding 
breakfast at the residence of the bride’s mother, Mrs. Rowena Hunt de Pue, 
in Vallejo street. Some of those attending the wedding were Mr. and Mrs. 
Kenneth Monteagle, Mr. and Mrs. Arthur Goodfellow, Mr. and Mrs. Alan 
Lowery, Mr. and Mrs. Corbett Moody, Mr. and Mrs. Algernon Gibson, Mr. 
and Mrs. Chouteau Johnson, Mrs. Edward C. Wright and John Elliott. 

Mr. Elliott is the son of John Elliott of the southern city, and he and 
his bride will make their home there. 

§2 

THE OBITUARY STORY 

The "gloomy run.” One of the first assignments given the 
young reporter is the assembling of the facts relating to death, 
commonly known as the " obit,” a shortening of the words 
" obituary notice.” The presence of such important news is usu¬ 
ally unearthed on the " gloomy run,” slang for funeral parlors, the 
board of health, hospitals, and bureaus of vital statistics, where 
records are made of deaths, sudden and otherwise. Often the re¬ 
porter may gather this information by use of the telephone, calling 
at intervals every man on the " gloomy run ”; sometimes the re¬ 
porter may be sent out to talk with funeral directors and hospital 
attaches. 

Another fertile field of news tips bearing on deaths and funerals 
may be found in notices brought by friends and relatives to the 
newspaper advertising department. If carbon copies of these no¬ 
tices are furnished the city editor, extended news stories may be 
prepared. Many papers now print special columns of obituary 
notices, each carrying as a headline the name of the deceased. 
When men have been prominent in the life of the community a 
more extended resume of their lives and activities is offered. The 
use by the reporter of a set of printed questions relating to the 
man’s history and career is to be recommended, for such a ques¬ 
tionnaire guarantees the securing of complete information so 
necessary for the compilation of the "obit.” Of all types of 
newspaper writing none exacts such a high degree of accuracy as 
the record of death. Mistakes are not easily condoned. 


TYPES OF NEWS STORIES 


149 


First-hand investigation. The only satisfactory method to 
gather data for an obituary is to interview directly some member 
of the immediate family, or the nearest kin who can be reached. 
Be sure to set down full name, cause of death, length of illness, 
number and names of survivors, funeral arrangements, place of 
residence, place of burial, and the person’s business, social, and 
community relationships. If the man had reached a summit of 
prominence, it becomes expedient to add data relating to his wife 
and children. 

It may give a novice a sense of shock to be told to prepare an 
obituary notice of some prominent person who is still alive. Pre¬ 
paredness is no idle word in a newspaper; a hint that a man is 
seriously ill is enough to prompt preparation of an obituary which 
may be printed quickly should notice come that death has en¬ 
sued. Many metropolitan offices have in readiness obituary no¬ 
tices of the president and prominent national officials, the governor 
of the state, and municipal authorities, some furnished in advance 
by the press associations. In exceptional cases these are in type. 
One of the essentials of any such story of a death is a resume of 
the life that has closed. To the reporter assigned the preparation 
of an advance obituary the problem presented is practically the 
same, except that it requires more tact to get personal information 
of this sort before a man is dead. In the case of persons nation¬ 
ally well known, the office library usually will be found to supply 
the more important facts, and with the addition of what may be 
extracted by a few well-directed questions the reporter is equipped 
with his material. 

Timeliness is an essential attribute of news, hence the last ep¬ 
isode in a man’s life is usually the first mentioned in the article; 
that is, the death—when, where, from what cause, and under what 
conditions. With the essential data in mind, any reporter should 
be able to write an acceptable obituary notice, although this cau¬ 
tion might be added: it is no part of the reporter’s province to 
write a eulogy of the dead. Such phrases as "the death angel 
beckoned,” "ushered through the pearly gates,” "gone to her eter¬ 
nal reward,” have no place in the real obituary, nor is mortuary 
poetry desired. An estimate of a man’s worth to the community 
may be printed in the editorial column. 


150 ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 

A well-handled obituary. The accompanying obituary story of 
the life, career, and death of John H. Patterson, manufacturer of 
the cash register, displays all the good qualities of a carefully 
wrought report that includes necessary news facts, but does not 
become a flowery tribute to the memory of the dead. 

Atlantic City, N. J., May 7 -—John H. Pat¬ 
terson, founder and chairman of the board 
of directors of the National Cash Register 
company, Dayton, O., died suddenly today 
aboard a train bound for this city. 

Mr. Patterson was stricken with a heart 
attack. He was seated in a chair chatting 
with his valet, his only companion, when as 
the train passed through Kirkwood, Camden 
county, he suddenly fell unconscious. 

Dr. T. F. Trudeau of Saranac Lake, N.Y., 
who was in the next parlor car, was summoned 
and tried to revive the stricken man, but all 
' restoratives failed. He had been a sufferer 
from a chronic cardiac condition. 

The body was brought to this city, and the 
authorities after an investigation ordered it sent 
to an undertaking parlor. William Roberts, 
the valet, wired the family and is awaiting 
instructions. 

Mr. Patterson had reservations at a beach 
front hotel, where he was to have remained for 
two weeks for the benefit of his health. 

Arrangements probably will be made to take 
the body to Dayton tomorrow. 

BORN ON A FARM 

John Henry Patterson, who started life as a 
farmhand near Dayton and established the big¬ 
gest business of its kind in the world on the land 
that he had plowed as a boy, retired as presi¬ 
dent of the National Cash Register company 
on July 16, 1921. At that time he was 77 years 
old, having been born on a farm Dec. 13, 1844. 

He did farm work, canal toll collecting, 
retailing of coal, mine operating, and finally 
"went west” to seek fortune as a ranch and 
orchard owner before he hit upon the central 
idea of his career—manufacturing and selling 
cash registers. 

Mr. Patterson studied two years at Miami 
university at Oxford, 0 ., and afterward at 
Dartmouth. 




TYPES OF NEWS STORIES 


i5i 


After his venture as a ranchman in Colorado 
he returned to Dayton, where he set up a 
factory for making cash registers, employing 
at first thirteen men. 

MAKES DAYTON FLOODPROOF 

In the Dayton flood of 1913, Mr. Patterson 
staved off the threatened destruction of his 
business and helped the city to recover from 
the disaster. Through his personal supervision 
$2,000,000 was raised to prevent future floods 
in Dayton. 

An indictment was returned against him in 
1912 for alleged violation of the Sherman anti¬ 
trust law, followed by conviction and sentence 
to one year in jail and fines. The case was 
appealed, the judgment reversed, and a com¬ 
promise decree was entered. While the case was 
in progress prominent persons wired President 
Wilson and asked him to pardon Mr. Patterson, 
but when Mr. Patterson learned of this he sent 
President Wilson a telegram saying he would 
not accept a pardon and all he wanted was 
"simple justice.” 

REFUSES WAR PROFIT 

In the World War he placed his factory at 
the disposal of the government but refused to 
accept contracts on a cost plus basis. 

Mr. Patterson was the son of Col. Jefferson 
Patterson and the grandson of Col. Robertson 
Patterson, founder of Lexington, Ky. His 
mother, Julia Robert Patterson, was the daugh¬ 
ter of Col. John Johnson, famous Ohio Indian 
agent of the United States government. His 
wife was formerly Katherine Beck of Brook¬ 
line, Mass. 

A daughter of Mr. Patterson is Mrs. Noble 
B. Judah of Chicago. A son, Frederick'Beck 
Patterson, is an associate in the management of 
the National Cash Register company. 

§3 

SPEECHES, CONVENTIONS, AND EXHIBITIONS 

Getting speeches into print. Accompanying the increased de¬ 
mand for authentic information, there is today a corresponding 
increase in the practice of furnishing to the newspapers digests of 
speeches, sent in advance in order to insure accurate reporting and 




152 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 

also to facilitate prompt publication. The reporter may use the 
digest as a guide, but he should not permit a carbon copy to serve 
for attendance upon an important assembly. A digest prepared 
on order is often lacking in pertinency and concreteness because 
of the absence of the audience, that subtle force which so often 
directs the current of a speaker’s thought. 

A knowledge of stenography, while valuable, is not a necessity— 
indeed, is often a hindrance, because space limitations in the 
paper today are causing the disappearance of extended reports of 
speeches. A stenographic record, moreover, often misses the real 
news. Readers are more interested in "spot” news of great pub¬ 
lic concern than in eloquent passages from the speech of even the 
most eminent orator speaking on an abstract theme. The reporter 
is called upon to find and stress the feature, a thing somewhat diffi¬ 
cult if he is encumbered with too many notes. 

When the speaker is an able politician, minister, platform or¬ 
ator, congressman, or the like, he is likely to inject informal 
"asides,” suggested by the audience or the inspiration of the mo¬ 
ment, remarks which are quite as interesting as the speech pre¬ 
pared at the desk. The address that wins a place in the crowded 
paper of today must contain matter of indubitable personal, pub¬ 
lic, and timely interest. 

The sole survivor in the printing of entire speeches, without 
editing and including insertion of Laughter and Applause , is the 
Congressional Record , and this is largely a publication for the 
delectation of oracular statesmen with an eye upon their constit¬ 
uents. Few people have the patience or time to wade through such 
speeches; no real newspaper can be burdened with irrelevant talk. 

Finding the feature. The report of a lecture may start with a 
direct quotation, some unusual reference of the speaker considered 
of sufficient value to supersede all other material of the speech. 
For instance, a phrase of this kind may form the lead sentence: 

"Honesty is dramatic criticism’s first value 
to a newspaper. It is dramatic criticism’s box 
score, and you know how long a newspaper 
could fool its readers with false box scores,” 
asserted Ashton Stevens, dramatic critic of the 
Chicago Herald and Examiner in addressing 
students of journalism last night. 




TYPES OF NEWS STORIES 


153 

The personality of the man himself may make a more interest¬ 
ing beginning than anything the speaker has to say. In reporting 
the same lecture, quoted in the foregoing excerpt, another reporter 
began by saying: 

Young Ashton Stevens had a success at the I 
| Medill School of Journalism last night. j 

This quality of youthfulness in a man fifty years young was 
emphasized throughout the report; it gave a picturesque quality 
to the narrative. 

A summarization of the point of view of the speaker, if he has 
a strong, definite point of view, is a logical way to start the story. 
The following lead is an example of this type of beginning: 

"In the old days a newspaper was a print¬ 
ing press attached to an individual or group of 
individuals. Today it is an engine of public 
service and the measure of its success—its 
success both material and spiritual—is the de¬ 
gree in which it is the supporter not of a party 
but of the people.” Thus declared Robert R. 

McCormick, co-editor of the Chicago Tribune, 
in an address to journalism students last night. 

A forceful wedge may be made by announcing the title of the 
speech, the speaker, and the circumstances. Thus: 

Government interference in business was 
scored by United States Senator William H. 

King of Utah last night in an address before 
the annual convention of the National Retail 
Coal Merchants’ Association, at the Drake 
Hotel. He took to task federal officials who 
persisted in seeking to regulate industries. 

Senator King told the 500 guests assembled 
at the banquet following an all-day discussion 
of retail coal problems from many different 
angles, that the nation is bordering on bureau¬ 
cracy in attempting to wiggle into any form of 
control in business. While no specific mention 
was made of the regulation now looming in the 
coal industry, the senator did not hesitate to 
be intimate in his remarks in that direction. 

His warning was that government regulation 
tends to destruction of the true principles of 
democracy. 






154 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 


"What we want is less centralization of au¬ 
thority and more democracy • less power in the 
federal. government and more power for the 
individuals, organizations and the states, them¬ 
selves,” he said. 

No matter from what angle the reporter approaches the speech, 
he should not do violence to the continuity of the address by fea¬ 
turing incidentals that give a totally false impression of what the 
man has said. The reporter should not take a buried sentence, men¬ 
tioned in connection with other material, and play up this sentence 
in a prominent place to make a sensational "shocker” at the sac¬ 
rifice of accuracy. A letter to the editor the next day will show 
the speaker’s indignation and the reporter’s untrustworthiness. 

Examine the following speech report from the Chicago Tribune 
to see the blending of high lights and news qualities: 

"But what,” said Mrs. Edith Rockefeller 
McCormick to Noah Webster’s great-grand¬ 
son, "was it that the kaiser said about my 
father? Do tell me even though it was un¬ 
favorable!” 

(She had to ask the question in a loud tone 
before a roomful of audience, for Noah’s great- 
grandson, though lively as a cricket and rosy 
all over, does not hear as well at 66 as he did 
at 16.) 

"My dear lady,” he replied, "I can only re¬ 
peat that it was unfavorable. Other than that 
I remember nothing in that part of the inter¬ 
view. And every single copy of the interview 
was taken 500 miles out into the Atlantic ocean 
and there burned by a picked detachment of 
German naval officers, who spent the day in 
the furnace rooms of a German warship to 
do it.” 


ANOTHER CHAPTER WRITTEN 

" O,” said Mrs. Edith Rockefeller McCormick. 

"Yes,” said Noah Webster’s great-grandson. 

And thus is added one more chapterette to 
the thirteen year old story of why the Century 
magazine suppressed, after a hundred thousand 
sheets had been struck off on Mr. De Vinne’s 
celebrated press, its interview with the Ger¬ 
man emperor which was to have gone into the 
issue for December, 1908. 






TYPES OF NEWS STORIES 


155 


In the matter of that story William Webster 
Ellsworth, former president of the Century 
company, spilled the historical beans all over 
the platform at Medill School of Journalism 
of Northwestern University last night—but 
discreetly — ah, so darn discreetly! 

He told why the interview was suppressed, 
what became of it, who paid the losses, how the 
man who was the imperial agent in the matter 
finally died in prison, and then, interjecting 

the simple but cramping words- 

"I ‘will ask you gentlemen of the press to 
agree, if I give you the gist of the interview, 

not to print it-” — then he gave a nearly 

complete synopsis of the interview. 

In the report you have just read, notice the incorporation of 
familiar names, each of which may evoke public response. Noah 
Webster, the kaiser, Mr. Ellsworth himself, Mrs. Edith Rocke¬ 
feller McCormick, John D. Rockefeller, all important public 
personages, are brought into the lead. The reporter has seized 
information of engrossing interest to readers, and although Mr. 
Ellsworth said a good many things about authors he had known, 
the reporter did not consider these sufficiently exceptional to enter 
into a news story limited to a specific number of words. The re¬ 
porter made the choice which the public would have done and 
thus gave his story wide popular appeal. 

Covering a convention. The convention may be considered an 
extension of the speech, with human-interest additions. It pre¬ 
sents almost the same problems, but extends over a longer period 
and has more news factors involved. The task of the convention 
reporter has been simplified by the assistance of press representa¬ 
tives employed to get the news of the convention before the public 
and to act as intermediaries between the convention officials and 
the newspapers. Before employing its press representative, the 
National Educational Association received little publicity, not be¬ 
cause the newspapers had agreed to withhold stories, but because 
they were not furnished with material sufficiently interesting to 
win headlines. An expert newspaperman, close to the counsels of 
any convention, is able to bring that necessary cooperation which 
will result in better reports of the significant activities of impor¬ 
tant gatherings in which the public should be interested. Some 




156 ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 

papers, in cities which are convention centers, have their own con¬ 
vention editor, who chooses two or three gatherings that warrant 
newspaper space, while the rest are compiled under the label Con¬ 
ventions of the Day. 

The convention story is characterized by the fact that a part of 
it can be written before the whole is completed, and in the practi¬ 
cal operation of a newspaper this often becomes highly important. 
During a recess a reporter may very properly write up what has 
happened until then. After the lunch hour he may complete the 
second part, and in the afternoon a third part. Then, when the 
whole thing is over, he will write what is variously termed the lead , 
or introduction , and in this he will summarize the important fea¬ 
tures of the entire day. In the meantime his earlier copy has been 
placed in type, and the mechanical problem of composition has 
been reduced to its smallest proportions. When two men or more 
work on such an assignment, it is customary for the one in charge 
of the report to assign special work to each assistant. When chief 
responsibility has been delegated to no one the reporters confer 
and reach some understanding regarding the feature each will 
handle and what shall be the general scheme of treatment. 

It has become the practice with newspapers to run sidelights on 
interesting episodes of the convention, vivid descriptions of pic¬ 
turesque characters, a hint of lively competition in electing of¬ 
ficers, excerpts from a few of the speeches, the talk of the hotel 
corridors, little interviews with delegates. Sidelights are always 
given an added touch of dramatic interest by pictures taken by the 
staff photographer. The following from the Kansas City Times 
is an example of how one aspect of a convention may be selected 
for presentation: 


The big purpose of the three days’ session 
here of the district grand lodge of the Loyal 
Order of Moose was announced at the open¬ 
ing meeting today as the submission of plans 
for a Kansas City Moose temple to Dictator 
General James J. Davis. Details of the plans 
have not been made public other than that the 
temple will cost approximately $300,000. 

Edwin L. Ayres, grand dictator for the district 
in session, said the plans would be submitted to 
Davis sometime today for his approval. 




TYPES OF NEWS STORIES 


157 


THE LOCATION IS SUITABLE 

Mr. Ayres said the dictator general looked 
upon Kansas City as a most suitable location 
for the new temple, it being the gateway to 
the West. 

The session opened with a 10 o’clock meet¬ 
ing at the Coates house, presided over by Ruby 
D. Garrett, dictator of Kansas City Lodge 
No. 10. 

Addresses of welcome by E. H. O’Neil of the 
local lodge and the mayor were responded to 
by Gerald F. Graham, Brooklyn, N. Y., su¬ 
preme orator of the order. 

FOUR THOUSAND ARE HERE 

It was said between four thousand and five 
thousand were attending the three days’ ses¬ 
sion. The district includes Missouri, Kansas, 

Nebraska, Iowa and Oklahoma. 

In 1914, at a similar session of the order 
here, the idea of "The shrine of childhood” 
at Mooseheart, Ind., was conceived by Dicta¬ 
tor General Davis. The great "shrine” is a 
home for children. 

At noon today Davis spoke before a luncheon 
of delegates at Hotel Muehlebach. 

Exhibitions. In writing of exhibitions the reporter faces the 
menace of advertising. He must try to choose material that has 
legitimate news appeal without resorting to the megaphone of the 
salesman, or giving too close an imitation of the commercial appeal 
of the exhibitor. He should be armed with special knowledge and 
be conversant with the vocabulary of the crafts. Some exhibits 
readily lend themselves to human-interest or to aesthetic treatment. 
County fairs, educational exhibits, displays in museums, Build 
Your Home expositions, electrical shows, community nights, the 
handiwork of pupils in the schools, art exhibitions, all have con¬ 
siderable news values and should be treated as such. Note the 
following colorful example from the New York Tribune : 

Notwithstanding a bleak wind that threat¬ 
ened rain, a fine crowd turned out yesterday 
for the second day of the Park Avenue street 
fair benefit for the Association for the Aid of 
Crippled Children. 






158 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 

The greater part went inside, but many 
amused themselves outside watching the circus 
parade, hanging over the gaily painted enclos¬ 
ures and making audible and unembarrassed 
observations. 

A striking note of color was contributed by 
the Misses Lispenard and Ethelreda Seabury, 
who in vivid yellow kerchiefs, black bodices and 
green skirts, ground a hand organ, twirled and 
caught pennies in their tambourines. Jocko, a 
large baboon from U. S. S. Denver in charge of 
a husky blue-jacket, showed off for the children. 

The hot dog carts were mobbed continu¬ 
ously. Few had the strength of character to 
resist the strawberry tarts and sandwiches and 
cream puffs held out by pretty girl vendors of 
the Junior League. 

The gangplank of the pirate ship resounded 
all day to the tramp of little feet going aloft, 
then to descend into the treasure hold of the 
ship in a search for buried treasure. A continu¬ 
ous "mad tea-party,” as continuous as the one 
in "Alice,” was in process in the children’s 
playground, where the White Rabbit, the Mad 
Hatter, the Dormouse; the Queen of Hearts 
and the Knave, were the hosts. 

But the most poignant tragedies were enacted 
in front of the dog booth. Here small boys 
yearned over wire-haired terriers, Aberdeens 
and Airedales and were dragged away, pro¬ 
testing to the last. 

A large woolly sheep, three small black pigs, 
a raccoon and about fifteen rabbits were addi¬ 
tions to the livestock booth, which was already 
stocked with a dozen roosters and two dozen 
hens. A small incubator, electrically heated, 
held about fifty fluffy chicks. The apartment 
house child who longed for a rabbit was often 
made content with a tiny turtle. Turtles at a 
quarter apiece sold amazingly. 

The French market stall was in charge yes¬ 
terday of Mrs. Albert Gallatin. Mrs. Eugene 
Reynal and Mrs. Walter J. Salmon were kept 
busy stacking the pushcarts which, with de¬ 
butantes as hucksters, filled the midways. 

An auction cost the doll fashion show some 
of its most brilliant members. These really re¬ 
markable dolls were dressed by famous dress¬ 
makers and stage stars of the city. The Irene 
Castle doll wears the most sophisticated jade 
earrings and a small wicked French hat over 





TYPES OF NEWS STORIES 


159 


one eye. The Maison Blanc doll wears about 
$200 worth of filmy lace, every bit of it down 
to that trimming the last infinitesimal bit of 
underwear, real. There is a lovely French peas¬ 
ant doll made by the widow of a French soldier 
living near Paris, a Rumanian doll contributed 
by Wasserman, and which wears the authentic 
royal Rumanian national costume, a magnifi¬ 
cent Russian doll, dressed by Steine & Blaine; 
an Italian doll in magenta and purple by Caro- 
lamy, and a glorified rag doll by MacVeady. 

The checking booths managed by Mrs. Joseph 
Blanchard, Mrs. Charles McLane, Mrs. Law¬ 
rence Mott, Mrs. B. Franklin Hadduck, Mrs. 

Thomas G. Condon and Mrs. James Kip Finch, 
announced that they were prepared in the 
event of rain to furnish rain togs to all comers. 

The band of the Fire Department played in 
the square in front of Mrs. Lydig Hoyt’s 
Grand Giggle Theater. Babe Ruth and Pepper 
Martin, the featherweight champion, were the 
star performers in that theater. Irene Bordoni, 

Margaret Severn, the Duncan sisters, Raymond 
Hitchcock and De Wolf Hopper, were a few of 
the stars who appeared in this theatre yesterday. 

F or the closing night a midnight show is promised. 

§4 

POLICE STORIES 

Organization of the police department. Much has already been 
said of the reporter as a news-gatherer, but great credit is due the 
police department for the gathering of information regarding sui¬ 
cides, murders, misdemeanors, fires, and petty crimes. These get 
into the paper because of the watchfulness of the police and be¬ 
cause of the trained news sense of police reporters stationed at 
headquarters and at the substations. 

In order to understand how the reporter works in cooperation 
with patrolmen it is necessary to discuss the organization of the 
police department and the methods of keeping in touch with hap¬ 
penings all over the city. Without taking any particular munici¬ 
pality into consideration it is sufficient to say that the police 
department is usually under the direction of a chief of police who 
has supervision over the captains and sergeants in the various dis¬ 
tricts. In most cities the headquarters office is connected with all 




160 ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 

the districts by telephone, reports coming in from patrolmen at 
stated intervals. The officer in charge, therefore, is in direct touch 
with every part of the town. When a robbery or an altercation 
occurs the patrolman sends in a report to the headquarters office 
or to the nearest station in his district, in many cases asking that 
a patrol wagon be sent for a prisoner in his custody. Reports of 
such a nature, together with any complaints, are placed upon the 
police "blotter,” a large ruled book which gives a brief summary 
of any accident, crime, suicide, or sudden occurrence, perhaps 
after this fashion: 

District 28, n : 45 a.m., James Robinson, aged 48, 214 W. Linwood Ave., 
fell from scaffold while painting smokestack. Taken to St. Francis Hos¬ 
pital in city ambulance No. 2. Will die. Sheets, Sergeant. 

Many police departments give reporters free access to the blot¬ 
ter ; others issue bulletins which contain only the news the chief of 
police wishes divulged. Many tips of excellent stories never reach 
the reporters because premature publication would put suspected 
criminals on their guard; reporters guard confidentially the facts 
of other stories until arrests are made. The public often has the 
conviction that the city is unmolested by criminals, whereas news 
items of burglaries and holdups are merely withheld by the police. 

Story based on police bulletin. To the experienced news- 
gatherer the police-station blotter is crowded with possible stories. 
Behind the commonplace accident often lurks a striking cause, a 
round of mystery waiting for his investigation. Instinctively he 
sees his one report and passes another, but he is responsible for 
any story he neglects to handle. 

The following story, from the Chicago Tribune , bears the ear¬ 
marks of having been written from a report made to the police de¬ 
partment and released for publication in the newspapers: 

Clarence Flanders, cashiering as usual yester¬ 
day in the Trust and Savings bank of West 
Chicago, suffered the balm of June’s initial off¬ 
ering to level momentarily his bump of cau¬ 
tion. He was dreaming of green fields and 
shaded streams when a gypsy, garbed like a 
patch of autumnal woods, glided up to his cage. 

"Change for a quarter, please,” she chirped. 

Then, as he shoved over two dimes and a 




TYPES OF NEWS STORIES 


161 


nickel: "Ah, your palm! I see in it great things 
for you. Let me tell your fortune. It will cost 
you nothing—it is good! ” 

The cage door swung open and Flanders in¬ 
vited the gypsy in and caution out. 

"You will have good fortune—surely," the 
gypsy crooned, as she traced Flanders’ palm. 

"Good fortune, truly—but you will lose a lot 
of money soon; a lot of money." 

Soon the gypsy departed and flivvered away. 

But prophecy stuck with Flanders long enough 
to justify itself in the cashier’s discovery that 
a package of bills totaling $1,000 had departed 
with the seeress. 

Police, so far, have sought her in vain, but 
caution abides again with Flanders. 

In some instances police departments allow reporters to talk 
to the patrolmen when they call up from their districts, if such 
conversation is not too prolonged. In other instances the reporter 
must establish a first-hand connection with the source of news. 
Suppose, as an example, that a patrolman discovers a fire after 
midnight. He sends in an alarm from the nearest fire-alarm box, 
then gathers all possible information regarding the origin of the 
fire, the owners of the properties, and the probable loss, not neg¬ 
lecting to do what he can in the way of rescue. If the fire is in a 
crowded business, residence, or tenement district, the alarm will 
bring the police patrol and a squad of patrolmen to guard against 
accident. A second alarm brings out the reserves and more fire 
apparatus to fight the flames. In most cases reporters do not re¬ 
spond to the first alarm, confident that the report gathered by 
the department will cover the facts sufficiently, if, indeed, the fire 
need be reported at all in the papers. When the second alarm 
sounds, however, the alert newspaperman is face to face with one 
of the hardest and most exciting tasks that can come to him. 
Sometimes he may jump on the patrol wagon and be rushed to the 
scene of a "hurry run”; not infrequently taxis and street cars are 
mustered into service; but he must get there. The firemen must 
be consulted, the patrolmen questioned, and the occupants of the 
building interviewed in an attempt to arrive at the cause and the 
list of dead and injured. To gain admission through the fire lines, 
police reporters carry either a police badge marked "Reporter” or 




i62 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 


a card signed by the proper officials, which gives them authority 
to enter the zone of danger in search of news. Much of the news 
collected is telephoned to the office, where it is written by 
other hands. 

The reporter goes to a fire. The accompanying story of a fire, 
clipped from the New York Globe , is a good example of this kind 
of reporting. In this instance the newspaperman who covered 
the story was himself on the scene to witness the rescue, and must 
have talked with spectators, firemen, and occupants of the build¬ 
ing. The rescue of the little boy gives the story a good news angle. 

A spectacular rescue of a five-year-old boy 
who fell five stories into a narrow pit formed 
by the walls of three buildings was made early 
today by Batallion Chief Oliver and his driver, 

William A. Fraser, in a fire at 160 Greenwich 
street. The child, Michael Kramer, son of Mr. 
and Mrs. William Kramer, who lived on the 
fourth floor of the building, is in Broad Street 
hospital in a serious condition. 

The rescue was effected while Oliver clung 
to the last rung of a ladder held by Fraser who 
stood on the roof of a two-story rear extension 
of the building. 

The boy fell into the pit when John Larsen, 
a boarder in the Kramer family, was taking 
him across on some shaky boards after his 
parents had already crossed with the boy’s two 
younger sisters. The pit was filled with rub¬ 
bish and water when the firemen arrived and 
Michael was floating about unconscious. 

RUN TO ROOF 

The building is near Cortlandt street and 
next to the old Greenwich street police station. 

The Ninth avenue "L” runs along one side of 
it. The first two floors are occupied by bake 
shops. Most of the thirty persons living on 
the three upper floors are children. The blaze 
started in the bake shop and had burned to the 
roof before the arrival of the firemen. 

When the Kramers were roused and started 
to leave the building, they found the rear fire 
escapes so hot they could not go down. A 
crowd of panic-stricken men, women and chil¬ 
dren blocked all egress. Escape in front was 
impossible because of the "L” structure, so 
the family went to the roof. There Larsen 




TYPES OF NEWS STORIES 


163 


found two boards and placed them across a 
six-foot chasm between the burning building 
and the building next to it. 

Mrs. Kramer, who crossed first, stumbled 
into a skylight with her three year old daugh¬ 
ter, and both were slightly cut and bruised by 
the fall. Kramer followed with their seven 
year old daughter, and Larsen attempted to 
cross last with Michael. 

FOUND LADDER 

The ladder, by means of which Oliver and 
Fraser rescued the boy, was found on the roof 
of the two-story rear extension of the building. 

Others in the house, many of whom were cut 
and bruised or scorched in escaping by the roof, 
were George Bruce, his wife, and children, 

George, 4, and Raymond, 2, who live on the 
top floor; John McCaloon, his wife and chil¬ 
dren, Peter, 9, James, 8, Margaret, 7, and 
Joseph, 4, who live on the third floor; and 
Peter McCaloon, his wife and three children, 

Walter, 6, James, 7, and Peter, 2. 

All of these had to be carried or led to the 
streets by firemen of Trucks 10 and 8, some of 
them by way of the " L ” structure. Three am¬ 
bulances were called because of the number of 
hysterical women and slightly injured children. 

Suicide. The report of a suicide or of a murder which reaches 
headquarters through the channel of some patrolman also fur¬ 
nishes an opportunity for a detailed story, depending, of course, 
upon the circumstances and the prominence of the people involved. 
Here, for instance, is a story that came through the police and 
coroner. The reporter has taken advantage of the "tip” and has 
worked up, from the meager outline originally received, the fol¬ 
lowing story taken from the Chicago Tribune : 

" What is life, anyway?—at best? 

It’s ten hours work each day, three 
meals a day, 

A few glad rags to wear away, 

And then to sleep and dream away. 

So, what’s the use? So here I go!” 

Henry C. La Bette, inventor, 63 years old, 
who lived at 63 West Ohio street for the last 
three years, suited his actions to his lyrics 
yesterday. 






164 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 


Miss Louise Burke, sister of Mrs. H. H. 

Norton, at whose home La Bette lived, knocked 
on his door yesterday morning. There was no 
response. She entered, and found his body in 
a chair. A note, "God bless you all—I can’t 
stand it any longer,” was on the table at 
his side. 

ONCE WAS WEALTHY 

Years ago, it is said, the old man had had a 
fortune. He had it no longer. 

Why should 1 produce another fortune. 

That I cannot use myself 

While others await my pelt? 
ran more of his lines. His various inventions— 
an envelope, a toy baseball game, and the 
like—had not proved remunerative. Why try 
again? the old man asked himself. His death 
resulted from nicotine poisoning. 

BROTHER IS NOTIFIED 

The family physician was notified as soon 
as the body was found. He, in turn, called the 
East Chicago avenue police. The body was re¬ 
moved to the Shute morgue, 743 North Clark 
street. 

One of the dead inventor’s brothers, Edward 
La Bette, Minneapolis attorney, is on his way 
to Chicago to take charge of funeral arrange¬ 
ments. 

While the reporter should not forget that the motive underlying 
the suicide is always an important news feature that needs empha¬ 
sis in his story, he should also remember that he is called upon to 
handle a suicide story constructively and with repression. If he 
can accentuate the cause of the deed in such a way as to deter 
other persons who may be similarly tempted to take their lives, he 
will be rendering a good service to the entire reading public. For 
instance, if his investigations show that wood alcohol and Rough 
on Rats are being used for suicidal purposes, he should see that 
these facts are brought prominently into the story; if he discovers 
that lack of employment, meager wages, loneliness, desertion of 
friends, half-balanced mentality, criminal tendencies, are respon¬ 
sible for suicide, he should bring out these fundamental causes so 
that some remedy may be applied to prevent recurrences of such 
things in the future. 




TYPES OF NEWS STORIES 


165 

The old police reporter was satisfied if he presented the sordid 
annals of the crime itself, just as the old police court looked upon 
punishment of crime instead of prevention of crime as its chief 
function. The newspaper may also be considered a policeman not 
only in waging warfare for the uprooting of crime and criminals, 
but also as an active agent in preventing crime and conditions that 
cause crime. 

In case of accidents or attempted suicides the reporter must 
keep in touch with hospitals and physicians. The best method is 
to visit them personally or to send a young reporter to find out 
the condition of the injured and the injury. In every emergency 
encountered on the police run the cooperation of friends in the 
department or hospital is almost indispensable. Most patrolmen 
relish the idea of having their names in print, especially if they 
are associated with some daring rescue or arrest. The reporter 
should take advantage of such instincts and should see to it that 
these patrolmen get deserved recognition, without abusing their 
confidence. At times, grouchy, tight-mouthed officials will be en¬ 
countered. It is a class difficult to deal with, but some attempt 
should be made to win their confidence even if friendship is out 
of the question. 

Court incidents. Another fertile field of news allied with the 
police department is the magistrate’s court. Here during the day 
appear lawyers, detectives, criminals, and suspects. Many a good 
"feature” awaits the curious reporter. In some cities the culprit 
is led up upon the "bridge” in front of the court room, facing the 
magistrate as he tells his story. Reporters are admitted behind 
the rail and can usually pick up a good story or two from the re¬ 
marks of witness and culprit. Detectives also often give valuable 
tips which lead to the unearthing of numerous stories. The buga¬ 
boo of a libel suit intimidates many reporters, for in not a few 
instances accusations of crime are found upon investigation to be 
not warranted by the facts. 

The reporter should never dub a person a thief, a robber, a mur¬ 
derer, unless the evidence has proved his guilt; he should be 
equally careful in taking a sentimental attitude in trials of women 
accused of wrongdoing. Let him tell his story with such good 
taste that it may be read by every member of the family. 


i66 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 


Many are the little touches of comedy and tragedy revealing 
themselves in a dingy court room filled with curiosity seekers 
and a polyglot assortment of humanity. These glimpses of human 
nature are worth infinitely more than the dull recital of petty 
crimes, and most papers take advantage of them. The following 
item, clipped from the Chicago Evening Post , is characteristic of 
this type of newspaper story: 

"Here’s a gun, shoot me,” said Joseph Ber- 
naton to his wife, Mary. 

"I won’t,” said Mary. "You shoot me.” 

The ensuing wrangle brought the two into 
the Domestic Relations court today before Judge 
Adams. They told the judge that an argument 
over who should shoot the other was the cause 
of their marital troubles. Bernaton also was 
charged with nonsupport. 

LOVES ALL BUT CHATTER 

"I love her,” said Bernaton. "But she talks 
too much. If she only kept still-” 

"I don’t talk too much,” interrupted Mrs. 

Bernaton. It required the efforts of two bailiffs 
to stop her flow of conversation. 

"My husband and oldest son, John, tried 
to choke me,” she said. 

JUDGE SYMPATHIZES 

"Well, they may have had what many 
people would call sufficient provocation,” said 
the judge. 

Evidence showed that Bernaton, who lives at 
9244 Calumet avenue and is an organizer for 
the Railway Carmen’s association, received 
$465 a month. He indicated to the court his 
willingness to support his wife. He was placed 
on probation for one year. 


Here is another brief story of a different kind of court proceed¬ 
ings, interesting because of a boy’s promise and the sympathetic 
action of the judge. It is clipped from the Kansas City Star : 

For many years Richard Hisel has wanted 
a Shetland pony. Richard is now 12 years old 
and his dream is about to be realized. 

Richard never has believed in fairies and 
those things, for he is a practical boy, but he 






TYPES OF NEWS STORIES 


167 


could hardly wait for today to come as he sat 
about his home yesterday at 761 Cheyenne av¬ 
enue, Kansas City, Kas. He has been promised 
by " the best friend he ever had ” that he should 
have a pony. 

Richard fell behind in his studies and found 
his way before Judge John T. Sims in the ju¬ 
venile court. Judge Sims asked many questions 
and among other things found out that Rich¬ 
ard wanted a pony. 

"If you make good and have good grades, 
go to school every day, and the teacher says 
you are a good boy, I’ll get you that pony,” 
Judge Sims promised at that time. 

Richard appeared at the office of the juvenile 
court Saturday with the required proof. 

" Now do I get the pony ? ” the boy asked. 

"Bet you do,” said the judge. "I’ll get it 
Monday.” 


w Detective journalism.” The foregoing stories are easy to secure 
and write, as they contain no hidden facts. The real test of the 
reporter’s news-gathering faculties comes when only a small seg¬ 
ment of the story is available. Baffling mystery and half clues then 
meet the investigator at every turn. In such cases the reporter 
will make almost as many original observations as do the officers of 
the law, and while he will continually interrogate them and gather 
from them such facts as they may possess as well as their theories, 
he will not fail to assemble his own facts and make his own' theories. 

Adhering always to the facts, it is obviously printable news that 
Chief X is of the opinion that the crime was committed by such 
an individual, although as a matter of truth Chief X may be all 
wrong in his conclusions. The chief, however, is an officer of the 
law, appointed for the purpose of having theories in just such 
cases, and if he is willing to divulge his opinions they become 
pertinent because advanced by him. 

If the reporter is, as he should be, a trained observer, he ap¬ 
proaches the task of unraveling a criminal mystery with quite as 
much advantage as the police. For the most part he will have 
a better-disciplined mind, more alert faculties, and keener activity 
than the officers engaged in the work. 

The following example is an exact statement of the details of 
what was done in a case. The false clues followed are given to 





i68 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 


show that success does not attend the first efforts of the best- 
trained man, although the method employed from the first may 
have been, and in this case seems to have been, correct. 

A murder had been committed in the town of X, one hundred 
and fifty miles distant from the city of C and in the same state. 
Evidence on the body of the man found indicated that he had lived 
in C. His identity was an absolute mystery. The authorities of 
X, before proceeding to locate the murderers, who apparently 
had escaped by train, felt that they must establish the identity of 
the victim. 

All the evidence in the case was sent to the police authorities of 
C. At the end of two weeks they had made absolutely no progress 
in identifying the dead man. At that time an officer from X came 
to C and took a reporter into his confidence. The activities from 
then on were the work of consultations, the reporter often making 
the suggestions. The evidence at hand consisted of the dead man’s 
clothes and a death mask. The first examination of the clothes dis¬ 
closed that most of the wearing apparel had been bought within 
a radius of a few blocks from the public square of C. The vari¬ 
ous salesmen were interviewed. Not one of them remembered 
selling the particular garments, except a clerk, who said that he 
did recall selling such a coat, but he was positive that the pur¬ 
chaser was still alive. 

As a death mask is heavy and not convenient to carry about, the 
reporter had it photographed, both front view and side view, and 
kept these with him for purposes of identification. The shoes 
when examined were found to have a mark indicating that the sel¬ 
ler kept a record of them, and by tracing this down the date of the 
purchase was ascertained. The day chanced, however, to be Sat¬ 
urday, when the store employed several extra clerks, and nothing 
further than the date could be learned. This, however, established 
the first fixed point—a date at which the man must have been in C. 

Another clue followed was the marking of the linen. The men 
interested in the mystery compared it with the lettering on their 
own linen and, from the formation of the letters, thought that they 
detected certain marking peculiar to a local laundry. The mark¬ 
ing expert of this laundry was called in and identified the mark, 
but found upon reference to his books that three residents in C had 


TYPES OF NEWS STORIES 


169 

the same mark. All these men were found to be living. The end 
of this trail led to disappointment, but not yet to defeat. The ap¬ 
pearance of the victim’s clothing indicated that the wearer dressed 
rather flashily,—that is, with no great refinement,—and it was ar¬ 
gued that a man of such personal taste would probably frequent 
saloons and cafes in the same district where he had bought his 
clothing. After visiting several resorts the investigators found a 
waiter who thought he recognized the features of the death-mask 
photographs. He said that an employee who was on the other 
shift of the cafe service knew the patron and had sold him a coat, 
which he recalled as similar to the garment held as evidence. This 
other waiter was finally located, and recognized the coat as one 
which he had bought at the place indicated by the garment tag 
and had subsequently resold. He gave the essential information 
by furnishing the man’s name and the definite time of his resi¬ 
dence in C as fixed by the sale date of the shoes. With these facts 
the unraveling of the man’s past was relatively easy. 

The work of running down this information, and the many 
worthless clues followed, occupied about six hours. The result 
was a story a little less than half a column long. Often less effort 
yields more sensational results. 

§5 

SPORTS 

The popularity of sport. Traversing a long period of develop¬ 
ment and growing popularity, the department of sports has come 
to be one of the most eagerly read pages in the newspaper. The 
majority of metropolitan newspapers print column after column of 
baseball, football, racing, golf, pugilism, and employ specialists 
who know the complexities of every competitive contest and are 
able to write with a certain zestful enthusiasm. 

All sporting-news stories may best be handled by men thoroughly 
familiar with the sport itself and with the contestants. A writer 
of sporting news must be capable of careful and quick observation, 
clear thinking, and must possess a clear, expository style. His 
stuff must even verge upon the editorial and critical review, and 
yet retain qualities of spirited narration and description that not 
only vivify the scene but also capture the spirit of the occasion. 


170 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 


The sporting editor is a specialist. He must have a general 
knowledge of the technique of the major sports; he must also be 
able to handle copy that comes over the wire. Frequently he is 
held responsible for the make-up of the sporting section. 

The popularity of sports and the stress placed upon them make 
it necessary to treat from day to day the same or very similar 
material. This naturally brings opportunity for the making of 
"slants,” designed to vary the monotony of the ordinary sport 
chronicle. The practice has its merits and at the same time leads 
to many literary transgressions. 

The following story is an example of how an ambition to be 
different may result in more or less cheap humor and unintel¬ 
ligible slang: 


BROOKLYN, N.Y., Aug. 8.—Feeling the 
hot breath of the hustling pirates on their 
shoulder, the Cubs knocked Dutch Reuther 
for a row of raspberry bushes on the island to¬ 
day and whacked the Dodgers 4 to i. That scrap 
for third place is one of extreme annoyance. 

Vic Aldridge, called a jinx here, kept it up. 

Wearing false whiskers and growling here and 
there, he scared the Dodgers stiff, especially 
when they had men on the trail. May he long 
remain a hoodoo. 

BEAT DUTCH REUTHER 

It’s considered quite the cat’s manicured 
paws ii> the big show to stagger Dutch Reuther, 
who has copped fifteen thus far. Dutch pitched 
with his usual ease and grace, and had exactly 
as many hits behind him as Vic. But he also 
had one error to contend with, that when Neis 
let a ground ball get away from him with two 
itching to score, and this is what is technically 
known as the break. 

The diction of sport at the best is an interesting, readable, easy- 
flowing display of America’s spontaneous, sportsmanlike relish of 
athletics as a national institution. 

Afternoon and morning stories. The sporting pages of a morn¬ 
ing and afternoon paper differ greatly in the manner in which the 
sporting events are handled. This divergence can be seen most 
easily in the consideration of the treatment given professional 




TYPES OF NEWS STORIES 


171 

baseball games. The morning paper comes out some time after 
the games are completed, and its stories of the event take the 
form of a detailed, analytical recital, unified and colorful. The 
afternoon sheet issues editions during and very shortly after con¬ 
tests and must contain essentially only the gunning report of the 
games, the scores, and, in the earlier editions, a story of the con¬ 
ditions and contestants before the contest. Then comes a short 
resume of the previous day’s affair, with more emphasis on striking 
features than on the game as a whole. 

Sport extras. In sport extras the story is given blow by blow or 
play by play, because it can be published most quickly in this way. 
Details are telegraphed from the ringside or field to a special 
linotype operator in the pressroom, the slugs are put on a fudge, 
and in half an hour the paper is on the street with the com¬ 
plete facts. 

Interest in college football. As sports, professional baseball and 
college football have come to receive the majority of space in met¬ 
ropolitan papers. The former has long been popular; the latter 
has aroused a sudden and spectacular interest, no longer common 
to college campuses, as evidenced by the inability of college com¬ 
munities to supply sufficient seats for the crowds. The charge of 
crooked dealings in baseball contests has doubtless diverted atten¬ 
tion to college sport, where the taint of professionalism is largely 
absent. Amateur games, particularly golf, have also attracted a 
large following, even outside of the active participants in the games 
themselves. Women are showing more interest in sports than 
ever before. 

News points to be covered. The report of a sporting event 
should fundamentally contain the result, the score, the reasons for 
defeat and victory, the teams competing, the time and place, and 
the more important circumstances surrounding the event. The 
better-known participants in the game, the crowd, the weather, 
the conditions of the field, incidents of special interest, and other 
personal or human-interest touches can be handled easily and en¬ 
tertainingly in the report. The story must be made different from 
yesterday’s in something besides the score. Except for the result, 
the same game is for the most part repetition, so to make his 
story interesting the reporter must find variety. This touch is 


172 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 


obtained by searching out the unusual or by building a lead around 
a particular feature. On the occasion of the more important sport¬ 
ing events two men are often assigned to handle it, one to supply 
color, the other the detailed play-by-play story. A write-up of big 
games should give a feeling of the stir and hustle, the expectancy 
and the excitement of the crowd. It should give a picture of what 
the eyes see, the ears hear, and the spirit feels. 

The following was clipped from an account of an army-navy 
game: 

There are football crowds and Harvard- 
Princeton crowds, and there is also the Army- 
Navy game crowd. This last is sui generis, par 
excellence, ne plus ultra and also quite some. 

It is composed quite largely of people, but oh, 
what people! Of course, a lot of them are 
only human, but they seem rather more. What 
with the Generals and Admirals and thence 
downward; what with the epaulets and gold 
and silver laces, the thousands upon thousands 
of uniforms and shoulder and sleeve straps, the 
average commonplace onlooker comes away 
feeling as if he himself were at least a diplomat. 

Well, this crowd was as glowing a crowd and 
as compact and picturesque and jammed as 
ever was seen, even at an Army-Navy game. 

To begin with, it had all the joyous thrills of 
anticipation of what is, in some ways, the 
greatest sporting spectacle ,of all the year. Later 
it was thrilled by a stirring affray, in which, by 
sheer grit and determination, the weaker team 
made itself the equal for a time of the stronger 
one. Then, too, the envy of a throng ten 
times as great which was unable to get seats 
for the contest added that little thrill of tri¬ 
umph needed to make the joy of the happy 
possessors of coupons complete. The malicious 
animal magnetism launched in waves by the 
disappointed is always an incense in the nostrils 
of the successful. 

navy’s goat on hand 

Master Capricornus, the Navy’s goat, was 
prominent among the attendants. In fact, he 
it was who originally led the victorious con¬ 
tingent upon the field. Arrayed in a blanket 
of blue adorned with two gold stars, he trotted 
sedately about the field to the melodious out¬ 
bursts of the Middies’ band, behind which 




TYPES OF NEWS STORIES 


173 


came the serried ranks of the youthful sailors. 

Between the halves Billy—or maybe his name 
is Nannie—capered to the centre of the field 
and gazed in approval at the Army-Navy re¬ 
union of distinguished persons like Secretaries 
Daniels and Baker—the former’s lads earned 
him the right to have his name take preced¬ 
ence—General Pershing, General Nivelle of 
France and other notable men connected with 
the two services. 

Writing the sport lead. The lead is as important in a sport 
story or more important than in any other type of news. The 
following are suggestions of news points that make good opening 
sentences: 

Description of a baseball game, whether it was listless, close, 
one-sided, or overtime. The latter event should always be in 
the lead. 

The play which decided the contest. 

The condition of the field and the weather; in football games 
the weather frequently affects the result. 

The number of straight victories or defeats the team has as a 
result of this game. 

The standing of the team in a series or a league, if the result 
affects these. 

A rally that wins the game or nearly ties the score. 

Often two or more of these are incorporated in one lead, as in 
this example, which tells that the game was a pitchers’ battle, that 
it went into extra innings, and how it was won: 

Detroit, Mich., June 22—Cutshaw’s triple 
followed by Rigney’s single, ended an eleven 
inning pitching duel between Ehmke and Pru¬ 
ett today, and allowed Detroit to beat St. 

Louis, 3 to 2. 

Reporters with originality have used other methods to break 
the monotony. A favorite method is the use of the short-sentence 
lead. The following example will illustrate this: 

Walter Johnson is still doing business at the 
old stand. He proved as much yesterday when 
he snuffed out White Sox hopes on four hits, 
while his mates were picking up runs here and 
there for a 4 to 1 Washington victory in the 
first of the series. 








i74 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 


When the outcome of a certain football game upset the "dope,” 
a reporter announced the victory in this interesting fashion: 

Zuppe’s fighting Illini beat Ohio State 
Zuppe’s Fighting Illini Beat Ohio State 
ZUPPE’S FIGHTING ILLINI BEAT OHIO 
STATE 

The score was 7 to o, gathered by a success¬ 
ful forward pass from Peden to Captain Wal- 
quist near the end of the first half. 

Local angles of athletic events are naturally given preference 
by papers; but public interest in sporting contests has been so 
stimulated of late years that stars and special features in other 
parts of the country come in for their full share of attention. 

Related contests. Pugilism is a pastime which claims a cer¬ 
tain limited amount of space all through the year and provides 
material for numerous sport feature stories. Interest in this sport 
is expanded greatly immediately before and after a big champion¬ 
ship bout. The routine space, however, deals largely with the 
movement of champions and top-liners, and with the discovering 
and promoting of possible rivals for the title in the various weights. 

Golf and tennis are today claiming an increasing amount of 
space in the daily newspapers. They are sports which, more than 
many others, require specialists endowed with journalistic instincts. 
The two, golf especially, have become so popular with everyday 
readers that they have earned big headlines on most sport pages. 
Stories deal with two angles—contests among members of local 
clubs and the matches and feats of champions. Minor phases of 
these sports have become popular and are accorded increasing 
emphasis—the international aspect and women’s activities. 

Swimming centers largely in amateur and school meets and 
record-breaking performances of champions and near champions. 
Club meets have lost much of the interest they commanded before 
private and public affairs began to usurp attention. 

The United States has fallen to fifth place in athletic develop¬ 
ment because of concentration on producing champions. As the 
result of army tests we are beginning to realize that widespread 
participation in health-building sports is sorely needed. Alert 
editors therefore welcome mass athletics as a national safeguard. 




TYPES OF NEWS STORIES 


175 


SPECIMEN SPORT STORIES 

I. Football 

DARTMOUTH VICTOR OVER WASHINGTON 

Seattle, Wash., Nov. 27.—Dartmouth today smothered the Univer¬ 
sity of Washington by brilliant forward passes, and won the first foot¬ 
ball game in the new Washington Stadium by 28 to 7. Three of the 
Dartmouth touchdowns were made directly through forward passes from 
Robertson to Jordan. The fourth was made on a line buck following a 
successful overhead attack. 

Washington’s lone tally came in the first quarter, when Abel blocked a 
punt and carried the ball over. 

Nearly 30,000 persons, the largest crowd that ever witnessed an athletic 
contest in Seattle, packed the new stadium. Perfect football weather 
prevailed. 

First Period—Dartmouth won the toss. Harper received Green’s kick¬ 
off on Washington’s 40-yard line. He returned fifteen yards and punted 
for thirty-five yards. After three line plunges had failed to gain, a kicking 
duel ended in midfield with Dartmouth holding the ball. Abel blocked a 
punt and raced for a touchdown through a broken field. Harper kicked 
goal. Score : Dartmouth, o; Washington, 7. 

Harper returned Dartmouth’s kickoff thirty-five yards. A punting duel 
ended on the 40-yard line, where Dartmouth started a march for the goal, 
but was halted at the 20-yard mark. Washington gained the ball on downs, 
Harper punting out of danger. Dartmouth held the ball in midfield as the 
period ended. Score : Dartmouth, o; Washington, 7. 

green’s first score 

Second Period—Shortly after the period opened Dartmouth got pos¬ 
session of the ball on downs on Washington’s 30-yard line. Plunges by 
Burke and Robertson gained ten yards and then Crisp carried the ball over 
on a forward pass from Jordan. Robertson kicked goal, evening the score. 

Washington kicked off, Robertson returning twenty yards. The ball 
stayed in Dartmouth’s territory for the rest of the quarter, big end gains 
by the Dartmouth backs being more than offset by Dartmouth’s penalties 
for holding. The quarter ended with the ball in the centre of the field. 
Score : Dartmouth, 7 ; Washington, 7. 

Third Period—Washington kicked off. After Washington had recovered 
the ball Harper tried for a drop kick from the 37-yard line, but the ball 
struck the cross bar. Dartmouth forced the ball to Washington’s 45-yard 
line and Jordan then took Robertson’s forward pass and raced over the 
line for a touchdown. Robertson kicked goal. 


176 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 


LINE BUCKS BRING TOUCHDOWN 

Dartmouth scored again just before the close of the period, Shelburne 
putting the climax to a series of line bucks with a smash over the line. 
Robertson again kicked goal. Score: Dartmouth, 21; Washington, 7. 

Fourth Period—Harper punted out to the 50-yard line. Robertson 
dropped back ten yards and shot a long pass to Jordan, who made a twisting 
38-yard run over the line. Robertson kicked goal. Robertson outpunted 
Harper in an exchange that followed. Just before the whistle for the end 
of the game, Grady, replacing Robertson, after Dartmouth had hammered 
the ball to the Washington 5-yard line, threw another pass to Jordan, who 
caught the ball behind the goal. It was out of bounds, however, and no 
score was allowed. Final score : Dartmouth, 28; Washington, 7. 

II. Baseball 

BARNES ENTERS HALL OF FAME 


HE FINALLY MADE IT 

Jess Barnes well might take for his motto, " If at first you don’t succeed, try, try again.” Twice 
before in his major league career, which dates from 1915, when he was purchased by the Braves 
from the Davenport club of the Three I League, Jess came within the proverbial ace of pitching a 
no hit game. In 1917, as a member of the Braves, he held the Pirates hitless until two men were out 
in the ninth inning, when Max Carey got a base hit on a ball that bounced off Barnes’s right foot. 

In the morning game of July 4. 1919, in Philadelphia, Jess, then as now a Giant, did not yield 
a hit until the ninth inning when, with two out, Gavvey Cravath lifted a ball over the right field 
fence. Wonder if a memory of those games was in Jess’s mind as Wrightstone faced him with two 
out in the ninth inning yesterday ? 


By Frank Graham 

It was the ninth inning of yesterday’s game at the Polo Grounds. Thirty 
thousand fans had sat through eight innings of a game that bristled with 
gripping plays and in which Jess Barnes had not yielded a hit to the Phillies. 
With the passing of each inning the crowd had been more deeply stirred, as 
the slim pitcher played as though he were pitching to his mates in batting 
practice turning the Philadelphia batters back. Only one of them had 
reached first base. Cy Williams, waiting Jess out in the fifth inning, had 
drawn a base on balls, and after Parkinson had died to Shinners had been 
engulfed in a double play precipitated by a poke from Fletcher to Rawlings. 

The great crowd was almost breathless as the Giants took the field for 
the ninth inning, for only three men stood between Barnes and the fame 
that goes to the hurler of a no hit game. The first sacker, Henline, the 
catcher and George Smith, the pitcher, were the three elected to face 
Barnes, but Irving Wilhelm decreed that none of these should take his 
turn at bat. Striving desperately to start a rally by his team, he ordered 
three pinch hitters to take the places of these men. 

King, once a Giant, a sturdy, deep chested fellow and a dangerous hitter 



TYPES OF NEWS STORIES 


177 

at any time, advanced to the plate to hit for Leslie. Barnes got a count of 
two and two on him. King connected with the next ball and drove it to 
left center, but high enough for Shinners to sidle over and get under it. As 
Shinners made the catch there was a roar from the crowd, a roar which 
quickly died away as Lee stood up to the rubber to bat for Henline. Lee 
smashed a ball at Rawlings, and as John set himself for the play the crowd 
sprang to its feet. The ball took a bad hop a foot or so in front of the 
Giants’ second sacker, but he snatched it from the dust and with a perfect 
peg to Kelly retired the batter. Only one man more ; the crowd murmured 
uneasily as Wrightstone, noted as a long range hitter, moved up to the plate, 
swinging his bat, his gaze on right field wall. Barnes, unruffled, set himself 
to pitch to Wrightstone. The ball was whipped up to the plate ; there was a 
swish of Wrightstone’s bat, and the pellet skipped along the ground to Ban¬ 
croft, who scooped it up with a graceful underhand swing and got it across 
the diamond to Kelly. 


MOBBED BY THE FANS 

A deep throated cheer, which started as Bancroft set himself for the 
throw, thundered out across the field as the ball settled in Kelly’s glove. 
The game was over. Barnes had pitched a no run, no hit game. Stopping 
only to make certain that Wrightstone had been retired, Barnes whirled and 
dashed toward the clubhouse. As he raced past second base Rawlings 
caught his right hand and wrung it vigorously, then pounded him on the 
back. The fans had rushed out of the stands and were at Barnes’s heels, 
each seeking to take his hand. Those from the bleachers massed themselves 
around the gate in center field that leads to the clubhouse. Jess plunged 
into the milling, swirling mob and at length fought his way through, grin¬ 
ning, breathless and feeling very much as though he’d like to do a little shout¬ 
ing to relieve the tension under which he had been for an hour and a half. 

As he dashed under the bleachers to the clubhouse he caught a glimpse of 
a girl who stood waiting for him, tears of happiness coursing down her 
cheeks. The girl was his wife. Mrs. Barnes, as might be expected, is an 
ardent fan and seldom misses a game when the Giants are at home. There 
was just time for a hurried greeting between them and a word or two of 
praise, for cabs were waiting to whirl the Giants to the Highbridge station, 
where a train bound for St. Louis was to pick them up. 

The little yard in front of the clubhouse was jammed with fans, who in 
their eagerness to get another glimpse of Barnes and the players who had 
shared in his triumph refused to obey the commands of special policemen 
to "move on.” Finally, the cops, probably because they, too, are fans, de¬ 
sisted in their efforts to clear the yard. So it was that when Jess, in a brown 
suit and light cap, stepped out of the clubhouse and entered a cab he was 
lionized again. At length all the players were in the cabs and the order was 
given to start. 


178 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 


GIANTS TALK IT OVER 

Not until Highbridge was reached did the players have a moment of peace 
and quiet in which to talk over the remarkable pitching of the slim young 
man from Circleville, Kan., and then, when the train pulled in and the reg¬ 
ulars were joined by the second team, which had played a benefit game for 
the Elks on Staten Island yesterday, the celebration began all over again. 
Jess was subjected to more handshaking and lusty thumps on the back. Prob¬ 
ably the aftermath of the game took more out of Jess than the game itself. 
Loud in his praise of the pitcher was John McGraw, who fairly beamed every 
time he looked at Jess. Loud, too, was Earl Smith, who handled Barnes’s 
delivery. "Jess tied the Phillies in knots by throwing fast balls at ’em all 
afternoon,” said Smith. "He didn’t throw a half dozen curve balls in the 
game. When Jess has his fast ball working the way he had it today it’s a 
tough proposition to hit him. If you don’t believe that ask the Phillies.” 

Keenly disappointed at his failure to see the game was Virgil Barnes, 
who had gone to Staten Island with the rookies. Last night on the train 
Jess overheard Virgil bemoaning for the twentieth time at least the fact 
that he had missed the great feat accomplished by his brother. 

"Never mind, kid,” he said, patting the youngster on the back. "You’ll 
pitch one of those things yourself some day, and I hope I’ll be there to see 
it.”—New York Sun 

§6 

HUMAN-INTEREST STORIES 

Making an emotional appeal. With the modern newspaper’s 
broader outlook on life and keener zest for human values, the 
human-interest story has taken an enlarged place in the columns 
of the journal that would appeal to a diversified range of sympa¬ 
thies. Most newspapermen recognize the genus and are eager to 
print as many of these silhouettes of men and of things as pos¬ 
sible ; there are a few, however, who refuse to consider the human- 
interest story, on the ground that it is not news, not even near-news. 
Some conservative editors are afraid of it because of the cheap 
"faking” of the "yellow journal.” 

The difficulty with the so-called human-interest story lies in the 
fact that it eludes definition. Must it be grounded in literal truth, or 
may it be amplified by the imagination, furnishing a kinship to lit¬ 
erature itself because of its frank endeavor to entertain and thrill ? 
Can it in any sense be considered news? Among editors there is 
surprising diversity of opinion as to the worth of such a story. 


TYPES OF NEWS STORIES 


179 


The attached incident was published on the first page of the 
Chicago Tribune , although other papers may not have given it 
such a prominent position: 

Middletown, N.Y., May 28. — [Special.]— 

While Inspector Van Valkenburgh was looking 
over a coal train at Arkville he discovered a 
nest on top of a journal box of an empty coal 
car containing two small robins. He learned 
the car had been picked up at West Davenport, 
fifty-four miles distant, and the car and birds 
were sent back there where soon the mother 
bird found her little ones. 

An analysis of the story brings out the style of treatment and 
the appeal of the human-interest narrative. The lead is not con¬ 
structed like the lead of a news story, which easily satisfies the 
reader’s interest, but rather operates with the intention of cumula¬ 
tive interest, drawing the reader further into the story. The basic 
principle is that of mother love applied to the birds, but it is such 
a fundamental appeal that it touches a responsive note in men and 
women. The instinct which motivated the inspector is alive in 
thousands of readers, and the writer has capitalized this uni¬ 
versal expression of kindly concern. 

A dog story. Many newspapermen consider children and ani¬ 
mals the best themes for engrossing human-interest stories, prob¬ 
ably because of the inherent helplessness of both. The dumb 
devotion of a collie, the antics of a monkey, the escape of a 
menagerie lion make capital yarns, if touched with sympathy and 
humor and not drenched with "fine writing.” Note the suspense 
and artistry woven into this dog story salvaged from the columns 
of the Kansas City Star. 


—and when the last scene of all comes, and 
death takes the master in its embrace and his 
body is laid away in the cold ground, no matter 
if all other friends pursue their way, there by 
his graveside will the noble dog be found, his 
head between his paws, his eyes sad but open 
in alert watchfulness, faithful and true even 
to death.—From Senator George Vest’s Eulogy 
0/ the Dog 


Buckner, Mo., June 11— Pete is only a dog. 
Just a collie dog with the gentle, expressive 







i8o 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 


eyes of his kind and a good deal of gray about 
his muzzle. Folks in Buckner say that they 
can notice the gray more the last week or so, 
but they may be mistaken in that. 

Pete, being only a dog, is not expected to 
know the depths of emotion that persons feel. 
He is not supposed to understand about death 
and sorrow and utter loneliness and that sort 
of thing. He was a smart dog, folks said, and 
had been a faithful companion to his master, 
William Hudspeth, who lived on a farm near 
Buckner. 

But when Mr. Hudspeth died three weeks 
ago, everyone forgot about Pete. There were 
so many things to be looked after that the 
grief-stricken family left him to his own de¬ 
vices. Some of those in the funeral procession 
that wound up the road to the graveyard on 
the hill remember seeing him following along 
at the side of the road, but he was gone when 
the crowd dispersed at the cemetery. 

BEYOND A DOG’S UNDERSTANDING 

It had been a strange day for Pete. Early 
in the morning the people who came to the 
house had routed him out of his place in front 
of the door where he had lain during the two 
weeks his master was in bed. There were many 
things which, being a dog, he did not under¬ 
stand. There were all those people who stood 
around and talked low and there were lots of 
flowers and more buggies tied along the fence 
than he had ever seen around the hitching 
racks in Buckner. 

They wouldn’t let him in where his master 
was, not even in the house, although he tried 
to get in several times. And then finally they 
brought his master out in a big box and every¬ 
body went down the road with him. He went 
along, of course. Hadn’t he gone to town with 
him every afternoon for years? 

LOOKED FOR HIM IN STORES 

But they didn’t stop in town this time. They 
went on across the railroad tracks and up the 
rock road. They went slower up the hill and 
Pete was glad of it, for his legs were not as 
strong as they had been before the hair around 
his muzzle turned white. The hard road made 
his feet sore, too, if he tried to go too far. 




TYPES OF NEWS STORIES 


181 


He stopped with the rest of them at the 
place where the white stones stood about in the 
grass and watched them all go over to a big 
hole in the ground. But his master wasn’t 
amongst them. Perhaps he wasn’t in the big 
box after all. He’d probably stopped in town 
as he always did, and Pete, foolish dog, hadn’t 
noticed it. It was much more likely than that 
his master was in that box they were putting 
down in the hole. 

So Pete started back. The loungers on the 
bank steps called to him as he stopped there, but 
he paid no attention to them. They watched 
him trot on down the street and stop for a mo¬ 
ment at each store his master had used to visit. 
Then he disappeared out the road to the farm. 

The family, coming back to town, met Pete, 
limping a little now. They caught him and 
took him in with them. A few minutes after 
they got back home he was gone. 

The sexton, working late that night, heard 
a whining among the graves. When he came 
to the newest one he found Pete. The dog lay 
on the grass at the side of the headstone and 
would not come away when the sexton left. 
The next morning he was still there. 

Since then Pete has never missed a day at 
the graveyard. When he turns in from the 
road he goes straight to the Hudspeth lot and 
stays there for hours at a time. The sexton 
has noticed his restlessness. He hunts around 
among the stones only to return to his master’s 
grave. Finally he goes back to town and makes 
once more the round of the stores. 

At the furniture store he stops and scratches 
at the screen. When they come to let him in, 
though, he looks for a moment and walks 
away. At the bank, if they open the door, he 
trots around behind the cashier’s cage and into 
the directors’ room and then goes out again. 

Sometimes he goes out to the farm then. 
Sometimes he goes back to the graveyard and 
the sexton finds him in the morning, whin¬ 
ing at the mound of earth. Always he has a 
restless, troubled air as he searches for someone 
who cannot be found. 

One day Clifford Hudspeth, Mr. Hudspeth’s 
son, put on a pair of striped overalls that had 
belonged to his father. Pete took up with him 
immediately and will follow him anywhere— 
when he wears the overalls. 




182 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 


He showed much the same concern a year 
ago when Mr. Hudspeth went to California 
for a month. No one knows how Pete found 
out on which of two trains his master might 
return. Never a day passed, however, without 
his meeting both of them, and one day he was 
rewarded. The station agent still tells of Pete’s 
bounding joy. 

So Pete waits at his master’s grave. 

It is this striking of a common chord that creates an audience 
for the tales. Any person caught in the grip of circumstances he 
cannot surmount—poverty, ill-health, loss of friends—enlists our 
pity and causes generous impulses to spring into being. Such feel¬ 
ings are aroused in the ensuing story from the Detroit News : 

CHICAGO, May 30.—After 30 years of to¬ 
tal blindness; 30 years of sitting with a beg¬ 
gar’s tin cup at the main entrance of Chicago’s 
commons; 30 years in which his valuable prop¬ 
erty slipped away from him; 30 years in which 
his eight sons and daughters died, one by one; 

30 years of living in a cheap, damp, smelling 
basement by night— 

Those days have gone forever for "Old Bill” 

Rabe, Chicago’s most famous beggar, who at 
the age of 71 is looking forward to what he 
terms a "new lease of life.” 

Last Thursday an operation to restore the 
old man’s vision was performed by Dr. E. K. 

Findlay at the Illinois Charitable Eye and Ear 
Infirmary. The operation has been pronounced 
successful, and in a week or two they will take 
off the bandages. 

WAITS FOR SUNSHINE 

Meanwhile Bill sits and waits for the sun¬ 
shine, eager to start life all over again, with 
his almost equally aged wife, Mary. 

When Old Bill gets out of the infirmary and 
puts his battered tin cup on the shelf as a relic, 
he’s going back into the tailoring business. He 
used to be a good tailor when he had his sight, 
and knows he can pick it up where he left off. 

And as soon as business gets going at all the 
old couple are going to move out of their two 
basement rooms which they rent for $4 a 
month and get up on the ground and let in the 
blessed sunshine that has been missing so long 
from Old Bill’s life. 






TYPES OF NEWS STORIES 


183 


Sure, Bill was glad to talk to a reporter. He 
wanted the whole world to know what the 
doctors had said. As he told his story it be¬ 
came increasingly apparent that if life still has 
some good things in store for Bill, he deserves 
to have them coming. 

"Time was,” old Bill explained, "when I 
was pretty well-to-do. I owned an apartment 
building near Chicago avenue and Noble street, 
but lost it through reverses. Everything else I 
had went the same way. 

"Our children went, too, after that, one by 
one. Eight of them there were, and as clever 
lads and lassies as you ever saw in all your life. 

No one is left but Mary and me, but we’ve got 
lots to live for. 

ABOVE GROUND AT LAST 

"We’ll get along when I get my sight back 
again. But this tin-cup business hasn’t been 
easy. I want to go back to the tailor trade and 
make a living for Mary and myself. We don’t 
need much. But we want to move out of our 
basement and get above ground—we’ll have 
long enough to spend below it after a while. 

No use starting that stuff too soon.” 

A social welfare worker interested herself in 
"Old Bill,” and steered him to the infirmary 
for the operation. So the reporter musn’t write 
anything without giving her full credit, Bill 
warned, even though he didn’t know her name. 

"Because,” he exclaimed, "if she hadn’t 
brought me here I wouldn’t be expecting to see 
the stars and flowers again.” 

"The doctor says we can take the bandages 
off in about a week,” the nurse said, " and then 
he expects the patient to see as well as ever.” 

A man shot five times. Not all human-interest stories are of 
tragic cast or are intended to evoke sympathy. Many of the most 
popular are couched in a humorous vein. The accompanying story 
from the Chicago Tribune is a splendid example of a human- 
interest story written in a light mood, and is also excellent because 
of an informal breeziness which tempts the reader to pursue the 
story to the last sentence—and then only intrigues him further. 

Angelo Pero was shot five times Wednesday. 

But that isn’t news. Who ever heard of Angelo 
Pero? And besides, a mere shooting: Pouf. 






184 ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 

We have them every night. And Angelo Pero 
hadn’t been in Chicago twenty-four hours. It 
is nothing; some are shot the minute they land. 

Angelo Pero comes from Meadville, Pa. 

There was a pass on the Erie in his pocket that 
told this. He came looking for work in Chicago. 

That isn’t news, either. 

With Pero was one, Amato, who disappeared 
after the shooting, was later arrested, ques¬ 
tioned, and shrugged his shoulders. 

They were walking along, minding their own 
business, until they came to Hobbie and Crosby 
streets. Last night was damp and misty—one 
of those nights that makes a reporter jump 
out of his shoes every time a milk bottle falls 
off a second story window ledge. 

Out of the shadow three men leaped. They 
fired a dozen shots; close up, so they wouldn’t 
miss. Angelo Pero ran, shot five times. Then 
he fell. A lad, who had heard the shooting, 
came to him. It must have been a lad, for an 
older person in that neighborhood never hears 
shooting, never sees it, and certainly never men¬ 
tions it. Angelo was sinking to the wet sidewalk. 

"I don’t understand,” he said huskily. "I 
am a stranger. I don’t know anyone. What 
will my wife think in Meadville? And my 
four little ones? Why should they-” 

And he sprawled in the rain. Police came 
and removed him to Passavant hospital. He 
will live. Still, no story. 

Wait! 

This happened in Chicago. And in the pocket 
of Angelo Pero, untouched, intact, neatly 
folded, and easy of access was— 

Two hundred and ten dollars. 

It is this sharing of experience as brought by print, this saving 
salt of emotional appeal, that thrusts many episodes into the 
province of news. The moment names are included and local 
applications made, that moment the story ceases to be an imagi¬ 
native possibility and becomes a gripping actuality. 

Many reporters attempt the human-interest story; relatively 
few succeed in writing it well. Both in selection of theme and in 
treatment of it the type can easily be overdone either by the con¬ 
verting of a tender emotion into mawkish sentimentality or by the 
dull recital of an episode flatly commonplace. 




TYPES OF NEWS STORIES 


185 


§7 

SPECIAL FEATURE ARTICLES 

Subordinating the news. Much of the material appearing in 
daily newspapers cannot by any rigid definition of the word news 
be assigned to that classification. By common practice of many 
years’ standing, such material is styled feature copy and feature 
stories , which, again, are roughly divided into news features and 
general features. This division is in no sense sharp, nor can it 
be made arbitrarily. 

Some articles could be classified equally well under either head, 
some under both. 

In a general way, however, news features are articles or items 
in which the time element does not obtrude, except that in the 
most skillfully written narratives the lead is hung upon some news 
peg, the timelier the better. Examine, for instance, this introduc¬ 
tory sentence of a feature story as it connects the lore of the past 
with a recent happening: 

J OHN MORLEY is dead, and with him dis¬ 
appears a noble, if remote, tradition of 
the Victorean era. He died at the age of 
85, the most venerable of England’s elder 
statesmen, who in his retirement was still to 
be seen on Pall Mall, the very embodiment 
of the Athenaeum Club, where all is silence and 
thought and even slumber, where no visitors 
are allowed and where no one has ever been 
detected ascending the stairs at more than one 
step at a time. 

There and in his library, "honest John,” as 
his constituents inNewcastle-on-Tyne had called 
him until they turned him out of Parliament— 
there he meditated over a world gone mad and 
indulged in sombre comparisons between the 
ruin of Europe and the decline and fall of the 
Roman Empire. England has had three honest 
Johns—namely, John Bright, the Quaker; John 
Burns, the engineer, and John Morley, the jour¬ 
nalist. Of the three, the name of Morley will 
live, perhaps, the longest. For he invested his 
reputation, not in oratory alone, nor statesman¬ 
ship, but in letters, and "litera scripta manet” 

—the printed page lasts forever. 




i86 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 

General features are descriptive articles in which the time ele¬ 
ment is absent, and where the subject matter constitutes the hub 
of intrinsic interest. 

The news feature may be illustrated thus: At the time of the 
selection of a new pope, particularly if that event has not taken 
place for some ten or fifteen years, all manner of historical data 
bearing on the peculiar customs involved become of interest and 
furnish a typical news feature. Recurrently at these elections a 
great variety of material is exhumed from books of history, ency¬ 
clopedias, and other records, and given a news slant. It is obvious 
that the election of the Pope makes this matter readable and per¬ 
tinent, although nothing in the article itself is in any sense 
spot news. 

Of a somewhat similar type may be mentioned the various 
treatises, more or less inaccurate, on the subject of paleontology, 
at the time of the supposed discovery of the plesiosaurus in the 
extreme southern portion of South America. At that time much 
doubtful information extracted from textbooks or put in the form 
of interviews with college professors or museum authorities did 
duty as news of the hour. 

Popularizing abstract facts. It is in this field that one of the 
reproaches of journalism, as generally practiced, has a foundation 
of some little importance. In the effort to popularize either his¬ 
torical or scientific data, the reporter is subject to the definite 
temptation to adorn his material with flowers of rhetoric. In 
avoiding the pitfalls of technical prolixity he often falls into the 
quicksands of lay-inaccuracy. Some portion of this condition may 
arise from a natural lack of all-around scientific, literary, and 
mathematical precision on the part of the reporter. 

The field of feature writing permits of extraordinary versatility. 
A rapid succession of articles based on biology, astronomy, art, 
history, medicine, theology, chemistry, physics, and philosophy 
may engage the writer’s attention, each entailing the possession of 
special and definite information. To enter and do acceptable work 
in this field requires a broad preliminary training afforded by a 
college or bestowed by studious reading of authoritative books, 
plus the ability to transmute undramatic facts into plain, vivid 
prose that at once makes contact with the previous knowledge and 


TYPES OF NEWS STORIES 


187 

experience of the average reader. In this respect the articles sup¬ 
plied to editors by Science Service, under the editorial direction 
of Dr. Edwin E. Slosson, a scientist and writer of distinction, will 
be found admirably adapted to quick newspaper consumption, 
without sacrifice of essential facts. The following may be accepted 
as typical of this new method of popularizing science: 

A Ten-Minute Chat on Science 

WANTED: A PHOTO-PHONOGRAPH 

By Dr. Edwin E. Slosson, Science Service 

I am not satisfied with my phonograph. It cost enough and I get a lot 
of fun out of it, but it has its faults. It scratches like a woolen sheet. It 
has a nasal tone like a New England old-maid speaking French with a cold 
in her head. Some things it does well, as well as the original, the ringing 
of a bell, certain violin strings, thp shrill notes of the piccolo, the clear-cut 
tones of the xylophone and Galli-Curci. But my favorite musical instru¬ 
ments, the pipe-organ and the bass-drum, come out mere ghosts of them¬ 
selves. A choir sounds like a quarrel. Lastly I dislike having every piece 
of music cut off at the end of three and a half minutes regardless of its 
natural length. 

Now all these faults might be remedied. The scratching and other ex¬ 
traneous noises come- from the friction of the needle which has to drag up 
and down a sort of scenic railway route in the hill-and-dale machines or to 
rub along the sides of a crooked trough in the lateral-cut machines. The 
heavy arm presses down the point and has to be swung around by it. The 
recording needle that draws a wavy line in the wax, corresponding to 
the sound waves, meets with greater resistance the deeper the curve it has to 
dig. This must distort the tones in proportion to the swing of the vibration. 

To get a perfect phonograph we must have (1) a frictionless point for 
recording and reproducing, (2) a weightless lever to carry the tone-box, 
(3) non-resisting substance to take the impression, and (4) an unlimited 
record. 

These sound like impossible requirements. But they are not. The means 
of accomplishing them are already known. Light will draw a line upon a 
sensitive film instantaneously and without friction or resistance. A two-by- 
four beam of light ten feet long weighs exactly nothing. It can be swung 
around through space without the slightest effort or retardation. 

I fancy that the phonograph of the future will record its music by a ray 
of light reflected from a minute mirror stuck on the back of the diaphragm 
of the mouthpiece and cast upon a roll of sensitized celluloid like a mo¬ 
tion picture film. The most economical way of using this would be to run 


i88 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 


the wavy trail back and forth across the strip; "oxen-wise,” as the an¬ 
cient Greeks used to call it when they wrote that way. In this way a great 
deal of sound could be recorded on a very short strip. Such a message 
could be sent by mail for slight postage and would not break the way disk 
records do. Duplicate records could be printed from the original negative 
quickly, perfectly and cheaply so the records would cost us less than they 
do now or the phonograph dealers would make more money, one or 
the other. 

To reproduce the music of the message all that would be necessary 
would be a bright light, an electric battery, a selenium cell or some other 
means of transforming the alternations of light and shade into a varying 
current which would set the diaphragm of the receiver to vibrating as in 
the ordinary telephone. The reel of film could be as long as we liked so We 
could have the vocal books and papers that were promised us twenty years 
ago but which have never been delivered. 

In fact it seems to me that the phonograph makers have been so ab¬ 
sorbed in manufacturing machines and putting out records of opera and 
jazz that they have not paid attention to the improvement of the invention. 
They put the same old mechanism into fine period furniture when they 
might better be devising better ways of recording and reproducing sound. 

Stories for magazine sections. The general feature field is less 
technical and calls more for reporting instinct and skill in group¬ 
ing interesting details than it does for scientific and historical 
accuracy. It is this field of endeavor which comprises a large per¬ 
centage of the output of the Sunday magazine of daily newspapers, 
where the subjects discussed owe their presence on the printed 
page to the real or imagined pulling power of the topic. Details 
may be extracted from the general news to substantiate one or 
both sides of a hypothetical question. Thus, a series of divorces 
in high society may suggest to the editor "Are Society Women 
Becoming More Independent?” And the annals of court will be 
ransacked to produce evidence on either side or both sides. 

The Sunday-magazine field runs very largely to the exploitation 
of feminine activities and fancies. What girls are doing to earn 
their way through college has furnished text for many a feature 
article. Peculiar types of activities for women in politics is a 
theme of present-day interest. 

The farseeing Sunday editor must prepare the bulk of his ma¬ 
terial on the basis of its seasonal fitness. Like the editor of stand¬ 
ard magazines, his copy is often required days, even weeks in 


TYPES OF NEWS STORIES 


189 

advance, and far less than the magazine editor can he rely on 
prominent names to give weight to a story. With increasing fre¬ 
quency, however, the habit has grown up of signing an article 
with the name of the person who has furnished the facts when in¬ 
terviewed by a reporter. The story in manuscript is submitted to 
the man for his corrections and additions, then published under 
his name, probably with his photograph. 

Christmas-holiday material may be prepared in the fall. What 
women will do with spring styles is worked out during the winter 
months. An ideal place to spend your vacation is written from 
the experiences of a previous year, with photographs of the 
same vintage. 

The general feature story, lacking the time element, has cer¬ 
tain value in the news economies which gives it a place in the 
larger establishments, where the volume of advertising fluctuates, 
where many editions are to be made up, and where a certain pro¬ 
portion of mechanical difficulties inevitably present themselves. 
An entertaining, properly illustrated article, which is as good one 
day as another, or one week as another, has a place, and probably 
will have for many years to come. 

Short articles always wanted. The trend toward brevity which 
characterizes journalism today has brought increased favor to the 
news feature. A news story three hundred words or less in length 
has a welcome in practically every office in the country. It affords 
an inviting field for the trained, ambitious writer. 

In many offices and in many fields news-feature writing is car¬ 
ried on in conjunction with regular reporting. In other shops 
where specialized service is given, men and women devote their 
entire time to features selected from the news of the day. Some 
of the best of this is syndicated. Intimate pen pictures of the 
great and the near-great, prominent in the public eye, particularly 
during a political campaign; accounts of successful men and their 
everyday habits of life; old landmarks razed to give way to 
modern improvements; facts in engineering and industry; achieve¬ 
ments in the arts and sciences,—are cases in point. 

Treatment and style. In writing feature articles the injunction 
of the reporter to be painstakingly accurate is of the same funda¬ 
mental importance as in news writing, especially where scientific 


i go ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 

exposition is concerned. This difficulty is quite as great as in the 
chronicling of routine news. The facility for proper selection of 
facts is also important, since it is seldom possible for a newspaper 
to go into complete detail on any subject. Added to these prime 
requirements is the necessity of an engrossing style that seizes 
upon every opportunity to be picturesque, dramatic, and collo¬ 
quial. While news may be read because of its subject matter, even 
if indifferently written, feature stories in all cases require clever 
treatment to make them ioo per cent acceptable. 

Making the facts live. To make the facts live, feature writers 
need to keep in mind the following injunctions: (i) the opening 
sentence of the story should rivet attention and interest in what 
is to follow; (2) concrete, vivifying words and phrases harnessed 
into swiftly moving sentences make for easy reading; (3) the 
illustrative incident may be employed to add variety and point to 
the narrative; (4) interviews and description of personal traits 
give vividness, variety, and a note of expert authority. 

To start a story well is often to insure for it at the outset alert 
and continuing reader-interest. The effectiveness of a good intro¬ 
duction may be defeated by a number of false movements, among 
them: (1) long, static description generally unrelated to the 
story that follows; (2) fanciful and overelaborated phrasing that 
befogs the meaning; (3) failure to recognize the chief underlying 
interest for the average reader; (4) the author’s philosophizing on 
the issues involved 5(5) failure to make a close connection between 
the introduction and the body of the story; (6) multiplicity of 
details that destroys singleness of impression. 

A sample feature story. Illustrative of the art of feature writing, 
examine carefully the following article on "Who Buys Your 
Home-Town Paper on the Streets of New York” as written by 
Bruce Barton and published in the American Magazine. Reader- 
interest is secured by adroit humanizing of the facts, first, by es¬ 
tablishing an immediate contact with the life and pursuits of the 
average reader, who loves his home town and who probably hunts 
for a copy of the local newspaper when he visits New York; 
secondly, by allowing the narrative for most part to be told in the 
exact words of Harry Schultz himself; thirdly, by use of typical 
instances, quick dramatic sentences, familiar words, and little 


TYPES OF NEWS STORIES 


191 

"homey” touches that create a glow of neighborly talk (witness 
the you , your , and I). Notice-, in particular, how the reader’s 
curiosity is piqued in the opening sentences. The story: 

"And you don’t carry the Sandusky 'Register’?” The tone of the 
speaker was both hurt and incredulous. He was a tall, hard-muscled young 
chap in his early twenties; but he looked rather forlorn as he lingered be¬ 
side the New York news-stand where Harry J. Schultz sells papers from all 
over the country. 

"Sandusky 'Register,”’ he repeated; "Sandusky, Ohio, you know.” 

"Yes, I know,” Mr. Schultz answered, "but we don’t carry it; we don’t 
have enough calls from Sandusky folks to make it profitable.” 

A brisk individual, smoking a cigar with a bright red band, stopped and 
purchased the Omaha "Bee.” The young man watched the transaction 
with eyes in which hope faded slowly and finally died. Robinson Crusoe, 
having completed the circuit of his island, and assured himself that no other 
human being shared its loneliness, could not have appeared more desolate. 
The young man had assumed that the Sandusky "Register” would be 
everywhere, like sunshine, or policemen, or gold front teeth. 

Mechanically he turned and started toward Fifth Avenue; but half way 
across Bryant Park he stopped and slowly retraced his steps. After all, 
this man who sold out-of-town newspapers had heard of the Sandusky 
"Register” at least; there was that much of a bond between them. 

"Guess you never have been to Sandusky, have you?” he asked. 

"Never yet,” said Mr. Schultz. 

"Well, say, you got something coming to you. You ought to pull out of 
this cold-blooded burg some day and spend a week in good old Sandusky. 
I’m telling you that’s God’s country.” 

"Well, maybe I will,” said Mr. Schultz, who is always willing to oblige. 
"If I do, I suppose I’ll find you there.” 

"No—that is—” the young man gulped hard. "No, I guess you won’t 
find me there. I— I couldn’t hardly stand it to go back now. I— But 
it’s a darn fine town, mister, and don’t you forget it, a darned fine town.” 

A moment later the young man had disappeared in the crowd; and so 
one more unfinished story was left, like a foundling, on the doorstep of 
the man who sells your home-town paper in the town which is everybody’s 
and nobody’s town. 

All articles about New York, like all articles about women, are both 
true and untrue. The sex and the city are too extensive to be dealt with 
in generalities. Women are as much alike as Cleopatra and Carrie Nation, 
as Marie Dressier and Marie Antoinette. You find in. them pretty much 
what you bring to them; and it is so with New York. 

Years ago I wrote an editorial about the narrow provincialism of New 
York, in which I intimated that Broadway was full of folks who thought 


192 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 


that civilization ended with the Appalachian Mountains and that Schenec¬ 
tady is an Indian name for the last white outpost on the Western trail. 
And that is true. 

Some day I want to write another article on the advantages of New 
York as a small home town. No neighbors to think you’re sick, or queer, 
if you go to bed early; no country clubs to take you away from home at 
night. Fresh eggs, fresh milk, and fresh vegetables, such as you never find 
in the country, because the country ships them all away ; in short, a modest, 
God-fearing village notably free from malicious gossip. And that article 
also will be true. 

For New York is five million different cities, according to the eyes and 
spirits of the five million men and women who look at it every day. And 
few men see more of the tragedy and comedy, the hopes and the fears, 
the ambitions and the disappointments that are New York than Harry J. 
Schultz, who stands at the corner of Sixth Avenue and Forty-second Street 
and passes out papers to people from all over the United States. 

"I never have visited Fort Worth, Texas,” Mr. Schultz began; "but 
I am inclined to believe it is the most self-satisfied town in the United 
States. I get a pretty good line on the different sections of the country 
from the folks who come to my stand. Take a New Englander, for in¬ 
stance—you can always tell a New Englander, quite apart from his accent. 
He’s usually angular and inclined to be modest. He knows that New Eng¬ 
land doesn’t grow the biggest apples or the tallest policemen, or any of 
the other things that the West boasts about; in his heart he understands 
that it is just a kind of wife’s relative of the United States, distantly con¬ 
nected through the New York, New Haven and Hartford Railroad. 

"He’ll come sidling up to the stand self-consciously, pretending that 
he’s there just to look, with no special paper in mind. I pay little atten¬ 
tion to him because I’ve learned that lots of folks hate to admit that they 
hail from a small town. So, for a little while, the New Englander will 
stand around, hoping to find the paper he wants and slip me the money 
and get away without letting me discover what paper it is. Finally, when 
I’m sure he’s tame enough so he won’t fly if I speak to him, I say casually : 

"'Anything special?’ 

"'Oh, I guess not,’ he’ll reply; 'just looking them over; it’s an interest¬ 
ing collection. You even have some papers from the smaller cities, I see.’ 

"'Yes,’ I answer, 'three hundred and fifty different papers in all.’ 

"'Well, well! Now, I don’t suppose you have a paper from Bangor?’ 

"Right away I slip a copy of the Bangor 'News’ into his hand, and he 
pays me, murmuring something about having visited Bangor once years 
ago. But I know that the minute he gets around the corner he will turn 
right to the middle pages and hunt around among the personals until he 
finds the note saying: 'Our esteemed fellow townsman, Henry Alden, left 
for New York last night on business.’ 


TYPES OF NEWS STORIES 


193 


"Then there’s the Southerner; he is invariably polite. 

"'May I trouble you for a copy of the Shreveport "Times,” suh? Ah, 
thank you, suh. A very lovely city Shreveport, suh. Not as extensive as 
your own, of course; but very homelike, suh, very homelike, indeed.’ 

"The Middle-Westerner is matter of fact; he knows that he comes 
from the most important section of the United States—but in minor mat¬ 
ters he gives his vanity the benefit of the doubt. He writes 'Chicago’ on 
the hotel register—though his home is in Wheaton, thirty miles out. He 
asks the information man in the depot about trains to Cleveland—never 
for Wellington. And he buys the Chicago 'Tribune’ when what he really 
wants is the South Bend 'Tribune.’ He’s friendly and self-confident and 
believes that the Lord is on his side. But the Texan! Compared with the 
Texan, the average Middle-Westerner just doesn’t know what the home¬ 
town feeling is. 

"'Got any Texas papers, mister?’ His voice booms big, and you’re 
lucky if you escape a neighborly slap that will make your shoulder sore 
the rest of the day. 

"'What town?’ you ask. 

"'Forth Worth, the best little old town in the United States ! Ever been 
to Fort Worth, mister? No? I’m telling you then that you just don’t 
know what living is. Talk about good-looking girls! And movies! Say, 
mister! we’ve got a movie theatre with a pipe organ. . . Never been to 
Fort Worth! Well, think of that! Here’s my card; you just ask for me 
when you come—everybody knows me.’ 

"Dallas, too, is a proud little city. Houston and Galveston and El Paso 
and Beaumont and San Antonio all admit modestly that there is much to 
be said in their behalf. But when it comes to complete and unadulterated 
self-satisfaction I believe that Fort Worth, Texas, has them all lashed to 
the mast. 

"San Diego comes second, I should say. I have nothing but the friend¬ 
liest feelings for that city; it has sent many good customers my way; but 
I do wish that rain would fall upon it just once before I die. There never 
is a rainy day in New York but that some enthusiastic San Diegoan (or 
perhaps I should say San Diegoite) comes along and tells me about the 
wonderful climate and how, when the Almighty looked at the world and 
pronounced it good, his eyes were focused on San Diego’s city hall. 

"You said at the beginning that mine is a curious business,” Mr. Schultz 
continued ; "but it never strikes me that way. Wherever there is a human 
need or a human instinct a business is bound to develop. And my business 
is built on the fact that people will go back, in imagination at least, to their 
own home towns. 

« Some months ago a detective from police headquarters called me aside. 

"'Do you sell Hartford papers?’ he asked; and when I said yes, he 
told me that the son of a rich man in that city had taken it into his head 


194 ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 

to light out for New York, and that his father had asked the police to get 
on his trail. 

'"Of course it’s only a chance,’ the detective said, 'but he might show 
up here at your stand.’ 

"'No chance about it,’ I answered. 'Leave a description of him with 
me. If he’s in New York, he’ll show up’ 

"Sure enough, a couple of days later a homesick-looking youngster 
asked me for a copy of the Hartford 'Courant.’ 

"'They’re looking for you back in Hartford, my lad.’ I said to him. 
'Your dad is worried and your mother is sick for fear something has hap¬ 
pened to you.’ 

"That was all I needed to say. His eyes filled with tears, and when the 
detective came up all the lad wanted to know was how quick he could get 
a train for home. 

" Of course it isn’t entirely for home-town news that people come to our 
stands. We have a very dependable trade from business men who want to 
keep track of developments in one state or another. We can tell, for in¬ 
stance, when a new oil boom has broken loose by the demand for Oklahoma 
and Texas and Wyoming papers; and there are gentlemen who wear spats 
and who never saw a farm in their lives, but who read the news from the 
corn belt more eagerly than the farmers themselves. A cent a bushel one 
way or the other may mean five or ten thousand dollars to them. 

"There is an old saying that 'home is where the heart is,’ and we’ve 
discovered that no matter how much battering the heart may have received, 
the owner of it still has a good deal of curiosity about the batterer. 

"' Got a Reno paper ? ’ a well-dressed young man will ask ; and frequently 
he’ll open it and ease his mind right here on the corner of Forty-second 
Street. 

"'What do you think of that!’ he’ll exclaim. 'What do you think of 
that wife of mine? Here’s her name in the story of a masquerade at 
Reno. And a year ago she said that if anything ever separated us she’d die.’ 

"Or it may be a woman who wants the news from Reno; a flashily 
dressed young woman perhaps; or an older woman, subdued, half- 
embarrassed, and showing that she’s had trouble. You hear a lot of talk 
these days about divorce being easy and all that sort of thing, but it’s 
always a good deal of a wrench, I guess. I’ve seen hard-boiled-looking men 
open the Reno paper and flush and bite hard on their cigars, and turn away 
with what looked suspiciously like moisture in their eyes. And more than 
one woman, who is outwardly only too relieved to be rid of the man she 
onced loved, has crumpled up the Reno 'Gazette’ in her hands and cried 
right here, regardless of who might be passing. 

"We have another sort of customers, who come and go but make up 
a pretty steady demand in the total. Did it ever occur to you that chorus 
girls have mothers and fathers? Well, they have, just the same as other 


TYPES OF NEWS STORIES 


195 


folks. It’s always a mystery to me where the managers find so many 
pretty girls every year. I imagine they flock to New York from little 
towns all over the land; but a lot of them apparently grow up right here. 
At any rate, every autumn a new set of middle-aged women and men come 
up to the stand and begin buying Cincinnati and Cleveland and Louisville 
and St. Louis and Omaha papers, following the road companies from town 
to town. Sometimes a bluff, big-voiced man will brush up and say: 

"'Give me the Des Moines "Register,” mister; my girl Elsie is in a show 
out there, and I’m here to tell you that she has Elsie Janis backed off 
the map.’ 

"Usually they say nothing, however—just take the paper and walk 
away; sometimes looking sort of proud, sometimes a little worried, as 
though the letters hadn’t been coming as regularly as they should. And 
without asking them any questions I can guess pretty well why they bought 
a Cincinnati 'Times-Star’ last week, and are buying the Louisville 'Courier- 
Journal’ this week, and what paper they will want next week and the week 
after that. And I know that out in Louisville there’s a girl who is just 
one more girl in the chorus to the audience—just 'that blond in the front 
row,’ or that 'cute little one, third from the end.’ But to a mother and 
father somewhere up in the Bronx she is the most beautiful and wonderful 
girl in the world; and the stars in their courses move out of their way 
to follow her around the circuit and shine over the theatre where she plays. 

"It would surprise you to know how many folks there are in New York 
who are waiting around hopefully for someone to die. A man who claimed 
to know the facts told me once that Riverside Drive has any number of 
folks who haven’t paid rent for their apartments for years; the landlords 
don’t push them, knowing that sooner or later the rich uncle or aunt will 
die and they will be able to pay up all they owe. It doesn’t sound quite 
reasonable, knowing New York landlords as we do; but I get plenty of 
evidence right here that the folks in town who have 'expectations’ would 
make a pretty good-sized town by themselves. 

"'Give me a Davenport "Times,”’ a chap will ask, and when he has 
glanced at it he’ll exclaim, 'Well, it’s wonderful how the old man holds on.’ 

"A pretty sad business, one would say, waiting around idle for some 
hard-working old gentleman or lady to die. But it’s one of the things that 
contributes its quota to the trade of selling out-of-town papers in this big 
complex town. 

"Then we have the mystery folks. How many stories could be written 
if one only knew just why they buy the papers they do! A woman came 
once, a good-looking woman of thirty, perhaps, with a frank smile and 
a pleasant voice. 

"'Do you have the Uniontown "Herald”?’ she asked. 

"I told her I was sorry I did not. 

"'Could you get it for me?’ 


196 ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 

"'It wouldn’t pay you,’ I answered. 'You can subscribe for it direct 
and have it delivered to your home.’ 

"'But I don’t want to subscribe,’ she objected. 'There are very special 
reasons why I don’t care to have anyone in Uniontown know where I am.’ 

"She was so insistent that I took the money finally and had the paper 
sent to me here. For several weeks she called regularly every evening at 
about eight o’clock. Then one night she opened the paper, caught some 
item on the front page, gave a quick little gasp and hurried away. I have 
never seen her again. 

"What was the item that she had been waiting for? Why wouldn’t she 
let them know, back in Uniontown, where she was ? What sort of emotion 
was concealed in that single gasp ? Was it astonishment, or fear, or pain, 
or relief? Had her sweetheart married another woman? Had someone 
died and left her rich ? 

"But the boys and girls do confide in us. Poor, lonesome, homesick 
youngsters, New York must have thousands of them. They have started 
out in the full flush of their youthful enthusiasm, expecting to conquer the 
world. Back home in the little towns and villages they left behind, their 
friends and neighbors imagine them feasting at the Biltmore and riding in 
limousines, and seeing all the new shows from the front-row seats. When, 
as a matter of fact, their Biltmore is one room in Harlem or Brooklyn or 
Newark; they see only the tops of the actors’ heads from seats up under 
the theatre roof; and they would leave New York in a minute and slip 
back home if it wasn’t for their pride. 

"But pride holds them to their contract; they have announced that they 
were going to tie the world up in a neat bundle and bring it home; and so 
they stick on in the big, lonesome town. Sometimes they do win, and go 
back in big red cars to surprise the old folks. More often they don’t win, 
but just stay on and become part of the great unknown mass that is New 
York. All we know is that after a time they don’t come around for the 
home paper any more. 

"You don’t see many old people in New York; have you ever noticed 
that ? Every year a new crop of youngsters comes in to take their try at 
conquering the town; and New York swallows them up. Go to the base¬ 
ball game or the theatre, ride in the elevators of office buildings, or watch 
the automobiles and youth is everywhere. 

"But New Yorkers do grow old as well as other folks. Moreover, there 
is a big, quiet, hidden population here of folks who grew old elsewhere and 
came to New York to spend their last years. It is that sort of old people 
whom we see oftenest buying their home-town papers at our stands. 

"Sometimes it’s an old lady in black, alone; sometimes a courteous old 
gentleman with whiskers and a cane; often the old man and the old lady 
together. They have sold the farm and taken the proceeds and come down 
to enjoy themselves for a few years in the big town of which they have 


TYPES OF NEWS STORIES 


197 

dreamed; but while their feet are on Broadway, their hearts are back on 
Main Street, perhaps a thousand miles away. 

"They want to know how Joe is getting on with the business; and how 
the folks like the new Baptist preacher; whether it is really true that the 
Millers have remodeled their house; and whether the dentist is going to 
marry the milliner. They write glowing letters to their sons and daughters 
and send the grandchildren gifts from the toy shops. Back in the home 
town folks say: ' Isn’t it wonderful that the Higginses can have such a 
good time when they have worked so hard all their lives! ’ And the Hig¬ 
ginses say: ' Isn’t it wonderful that we can have such a good time ! ’ and 
they go on having it with all their feeble old might. But the best part of 
their good time comes in the evening, when they put on their slippers, 
settle down, and open the little old paper from home.” 

I quoted to Mr. Schultz Stevenson’s famous line, that any town is good 
enough to spend a lifetime in, but no town is good enough to spend two or 
three days in. 

"I know what he meant,” Mr. Schultz replied. "We see illustrations 
of that here right along. Every day, almost, some young chap comes and 
buys his paper and tells us about his home town. New York is a cold, 
heartless, mercenary, godless place ; nobody cares whether you live or die ; 
if you dropped dead in the street they would just step over your body and 
grumble because the police or the street-cleaning department didn’t take 
you away. That’s the way they talk when they first come around, and 
they want you to understand that they wouldn’t stay here, no sir, not if 
John D. Rockefeller would promise to leave them every cent he owns. 
They are going back to God’s country where they call each other 'Joe’ 
and ' Bill,’ and money is used for getting a little happiness out of life, not 
just for waiters’ and hat-boys’ tips. 

"Oh, we know that conversation very well; we have heard it so many 
times. And we understand what will happen along about Christmas time. 
They will take their savings and slip away. And they’ll find that 'back 
home ’ isn’t quite what it was. There aren’t as many lights on Main Street 
as there used to be; and things are very quiet at night; and the neighbor¬ 
hood gossip seems awfully petty and small. 

«After New Year’s the young man comes back and buys the home-town 
paper again, just to be sure that the editor didn’t forget to print the news 
that he left for New York again. Perhaps he continues to buy it for a 
couple of weeks, but we don’t hear anything more about what a terrible 
place New York is, nor how much happier folks are in Cedar Grove or 
back in good old Kankakee. And when that happens we know very well 
that we’ve lost another customer and that one more 'typical New Yorker’ 
has been born. 

"Of course it doesn’t always happen that way,” Mr. Schultz concluded. 
"There are some New Yorkers who have spent a lifetime here without 


198 ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 

ever giving their hearts to New York. They’re just pilgrims in a foreign 
land: Attica, or Holbrook, or Valley Falls is their home. If you will step 
around to my stand some day at five minutes after eleven, I will show you 
a man who has come every morning at exactly that hour and bought the 
St. Joseph 'News-Press’ for fourteen years. He is successful, as New 
Yorkers go. He has his own business, his home, and his car; but all the 
wiles of New York have left his affections unscathed. He makes his living 
here, but he really lives in St. Joe.” 

I kept thinking of that St. Joe man as I left Mr. Schultz and started 
toward the subway and home; and about this curious attachment of us 
humans to the old home town. Some of us are gripped by it more strongly 
than others, I said to myself, and as for me, I said, I am afraid it’s pretty 
well gone. I have lived down here ten years and I guess that I’m about 
cured of any attachment to any other town. 

When I reached home it was late in the afternoon, and I went up to my 
study and turned on the light. Two papers lay on my desk—the New 
York "Evening Post’s” big Saturday-night edition, with gravure pictures 
and special book sections and heaven knows what; and a little paper of 
eight small sheets, half of them filled with "boiler plate.” I called my 
youngster and handed him the "Evening Post.” "Take this to your mother, 
my son,” I said. Then I lighted my pipe and, drawing up a chair, opened 
the Foxboro "Reporter.” 

§8 

THE SITUATION STORY 

Premise and conclusions. The situation story is somewhat hazy 
of definition but of very definite content. It relates to that sort 
of narrative based on a succession of small telltale events—perhaps 
somewhat scattered in time and place—from which a reporter may 
build a certain surmise that may be printed as news, once it is 
confirmed by a person in authority. To secure such a story re¬ 
quires intelligent, resourceful piecing together of facts, a wide and 
intimate knowledge not only of the persons involved in the situa¬ 
tion but also of history, economics, politics, government, and the 
like, records of the past so necessary to present-day understanding 
and conjecture. Armed with such information the astute reporter 
is enabled to discover and write stories that escape his less thought¬ 
ful competitor. 

For example, let us say that the mayor of a city has appointed 
a former minister at a high salary as the head of a department of 
law enforcement. Hitherto the mayor had not been noted for his 


TYPES OF NEWS STORIES 


199 


zeal in curbing crime and vice. He had been a shrewd politician 
and was eager to capture the good will of the better class of citizens 
through promises of cleaning up the town. The activities of the 
newly appointed ministerial law enforcer were duly recorded in 
the newspapers, as were also his references to his honor, the mayor. 
As weeks went by it became increasingly evident that moral re¬ 
form was as far distant as ever; in short, that the law enforcer had 
good intentions but was unable to put them into operation. It was 
apparent that the situation was intolerable, so that the announce¬ 
ment of the final ruction and subsequent resignation of the law 
enforcer was not unexpected. It is this sort of "spot” news that 
earns a place on the first page of every enterprising newspaper. 
In nearly every instance it may be sensed in advance, once con¬ 
ditions are thoroughly understood. 

Situation stories are developed by the machinery of political 
parties, religious and philanthropic organizations, city councils, 
municipal officers, parliaments of nations ; they wait only the close 
study of newspapermen not content with surface indications of 
peace and calm, but on the watch for sudden news upheavals. 

Perhaps the attached story from the Chicago Tribune may be 
considered typical: 


By Arthur Evans 

America’s iron and steel industry is trailing 
far in the rear of the rest of the manufacturing 
world in cutting loose from the twelve hour 
day. 

All the important steel producing nations of 
Europe are now on either a three shift day or 
an eight hour day, or both—most of them 
went to the shorter working day right after 
the armistice. The fact tends to knock the 
props from under one chief argument raised 
against the three shift day in America, that of 
additional cost. 

Producers have trotted out heretofore the 
idea that to cut the hours in the continuous 
process plants to a shorter basis, although fine 
from the humanitarian point of view and that 
of citizenship, would tack so much in dollars 
and cents on the cost of making steel that com¬ 
petition against foreign mills in the world’s 
market would be knocked galley west. 




200 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 


SAME PROPORTION FOR BOTH 

The foreign producers, however, since the 
reduction of the working day also have experi¬ 
enced an increase in labor costs due to the three 
shift system. Thus if the steel industry in 
America eliminated the twelve hour day it 
would simply climb aboard on the same basis 
as outside nations, so far as the factor of extra 
cost and its effect on competition for markets 
are concerned. 

An inquiry recently made through the inter¬ 
national labor office at Geneva, Switzerland, 
indicates that the three shift day has increased 
the number of steel and iron workers by 30 to 
50 per cent. The steel trade in the United 
States has generally figured that to install three 
shifts in continuous processes would entail em¬ 
ployment of 75,000 to 150,000 more workers 
than under the long day. 

President Harding in asking the elimination of 
the twelve hour shift set forth that on account 
of the volume of unemployment now is the 
easiest time to put in three shifts—advocates 
of the shorter day ever since the slump started 
have been urging upon the industry that the 
period of scarce jobs offered unusual oppor¬ 
tunities to introduce the new system and to get 
it established before all industries climb into 
high again. 

MANY NATIONS ON NEW BASIS 

Belgium, Austria, Czecho-Slovakia, Finland, 
Germany, Great Britain, Italy, Jugo-Slavia, 
Poland, Roumania, Spain, Sweden and Swit¬ 
zerland all are now on a basis of eight hours or 
three shifts. So the international labor office 
report shows. 

In Great Britain the three shift movement 
was started twenty-five years ago; ten years 
ago it was well intrenched in the steel and tin 
plate mills of Wales and the blast furnaces in 
the north of England. Early in 1919 it was 
the accepted practice throughout the steel in¬ 
dustry of Britain. 

In Belgium employers and workers by agree¬ 
ment put in the three shift system at the be¬ 
ginning of 1920. In France a law early in 
1919 established the principle of the eight hour 
day. Austria displaced the two shift system 




TYPES OF NEWS STORIES 


201 


by the three shift by an act effective in Jan¬ 
uary, 1919, on an appeal by the workers im¬ 
mediately after the revolution. Finland intro¬ 
duced the three shift system in 1918—it had 
an eight hour day law which went into effect 
in November, 1918. 

The reports show in Germany three shifts 
have been the practice since the end of 1918 in 
all plants in which uninterrupted work is neces¬ 
sary. Italy put the three shift system into 
processes of continuous character in 1919 and 
1920, due chiefly to the activity of workers’ 
organizations, while the three shift system was 
established in Jugo-Slavia in January, 1919, 
at the instance of workers’ organizations and 
is now required by law. Poland introduced 
the three shift system right after the armistice. 


§9 

THE INTERVIEW 

Interviewing a difficult art. Nearly all news-gathering is essen¬ 
tially interviewing; indeed, very few important items can be se¬ 
cured without asking someone a series of questions. The interview 
proper, however, is a different thing. It is the most subtle, the 
most fascinating of all kinds of news-gathering—and the most dif¬ 
ficult. It demands skill, tact, intelligence, and experience on the 
part of those who would win success and recognition. It is one of 
the few forms of news story for which the profession has retained 
a special name. 

An interview, as defined by a newspaperman, is an expression 
of opinion, secured from a person of immediate prominence or es¬ 
tablished authority, upon a subject in which the public is inter¬ 
ested. Such a definition naturally excludes that form of interview 
which some public officials hold with themselves periodically, 
utterances which are typed off and supplied by their publicity 
agents to the press. Nor is it meant to include the printed state¬ 
ment which follows a prearranged visit of a delegation of news¬ 
papermen to the office of the president of the United States, who 
then proceeds to outline a policy he has previously decided to di¬ 
vulge, or submits to the correspondents’ questions with the under¬ 
standing that many of his answers are not to be quoted in the 




202 ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 

newspapers. True, such reports are technically interviews and, as 
printed, give little indication of the methods by which they were 
secured. 

The real interview, however, is one that matches the skill of the 
reporter against the adroitness of a man who either has nothing to 
say or has something to conceal. Such an interview becomes sig¬ 
nificant because a single newspaperman manages under adverse 
circumstances to extract significant information from an unwilling 
agent. Thus, when a politician is induced to express his mind flu¬ 
ently and pertinently, or a committeeman comes out in indorse¬ 
ment of a candidate, such news constitutes a genuine interview. 

Securing an audience. The first real difficulty that confronts 
the interviewer is in finding the man. The matter is simplified 
when the reporter discovers the presence of a notable personage 
from the scanning of a hotel register, or is informed of his pres¬ 
ence through a brief news mention in another newspaper. All 
that remains is to send up a card and await the granting of an in¬ 
terview ; or, better still, waylay the man. 

In case the whereabouts of a distinguished visitor is unknown, 
either to the city editor or to the reporter, the task becomes more 
complex. Often a man is expected to arrive sometime within the 
afternoon or evening. The reporter must meet all trains and keep 
his eyes open. Probably the celebrity has only a few minutes to 
get a lunch and make railroad connections. Every minute of the 
time must be improved by the interviewer in skillful questioning. 
Here direct interrogations on vital topics will be found more ad¬ 
vantageous than aimless commonplaces. Many of the best inter¬ 
views have been secured under such pressure. Often a reporter 
learns that an important personage is in town at about the moment 
he is ready to leave. All the resources of quick thinking and 
prompt action are then called into play. 

Occasionally it may happen that a man must be called out of 
bed or summoned from a social gathering to meet a reporter. To 
approach him under such circumstances requires diplomacy and 
resourcefulness. When a reporter can be introduced to his man 
by a mutual acquaintance he will usually find that the way has 
been opened for him. If he can change the situation and become 
the host himself, the interviewer will generally find himself on 


TYPES OF NEWS STORIES 


203 


superior ground. Few prominent visitors, however, escape the 
watchful eyes of trained interviewers, who generally do their 
questioning in a body. 

Knowing the man and his interests. Once the man or woman 
has been found, the hope of success depends largely upon the 
personality and intelligence of the interviewer. Certain demands 
are placed upon him if he would secure the information he seeks. 
Whatever will add to his sense of ease and comfort is a desirable 
prerequisite for a successful interview; not infrequently it may 
be the matter of his own attire. The successful interviewer must 
be a person of more than usual address, with a certain savoir- 
faire which will put him on a plane of social equality with whom¬ 
soever he may meet. He must be courteous, respectful, and not 
disposed to argue or to dispute. Often he must display great 
deference; many more times he must lead the way and probe 
deeply for his facts. In a word, the interviewer must be mentally 
alert, laden with information and questions, and ready to match 
his intellect against another. He should remember that the par¬ 
ticular thing he is trying to find out may be the very thing his 
subject wishes to keep secret. 

It is highly desirable that a reporter commissioned to interview 
any man on his favorite theme should have a general idea of the 
career and work of the person to be questioned, in order that he 
may put intelligent queries and that he may receive understand- 
ingly what is told him without requiring too minute an explana¬ 
tion. Many persons are apt to be annoyed if asked to explain 
many of the technical terms in which it comes natural for them 
to couch their ideas; these technical terms are almost wholly 
unsuited to the printed article, and if the reporter cannot trans¬ 
late them into clear English out of his own knowledge, he must 
get that knowledge from his subject. 

The wise interviewer will inform himself on the facts woven 
around the career of the man to be interviewed. This desired in¬ 
formation may usually be secured in the newspaper library or by 
inspection of "Who’s Who,” a volume found in every reputable 
newspaper shop. When he has the data of a man’s life and in¬ 
terests well in mind, it will be much easier to start a conversation 
and to secure from him the opinion sought. 


204 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 

If the reporter bent on an interview knows exactly the thing he 
wants to have said, his campaign is further simplified. Often, 
however, he will have to trust to the trend of the talk to develop 
a point of leading interest. City editors have an idea that every 
time a national celebrity comes to town he ought to make good 
copy, and so the interviewer is often sent on a mission with no 
other instructions than to "get a story.” Knowing the thing 
sought does not, however, always make it easier to get such in¬ 
formation. The reporter may frame his questions ever so shrewdly, 
lead up to them ever so adroitly, and still receive an evasive an¬ 
swer in each case. There is always a certain risk in a point-blank 
question, answerable by "yes” or "no.” An audience gained with 
difficulty may thus be suddenly terminated. If it is prolonged, 
the person interviewed may give some expression that will clearly 
indicate his trend of thought. Interviewing is difficult precisely 
because of this fact: that most persons worth interviewing have 
trained minds and are skillful in evading a point or in framing an 
equivocal answer. The reporter will find it wise always to pay the 
strictest attention to every word uttered by his subject and to 
appear interested. This is perhaps not as easy as it may seem; 
for while the reporter is listening to an answer which is not what 
he wants, he must be framing a question whereby he may make 
contact with the topic he wishes discussed. It often happens when 
the reporter has asked a leading question that he receives an an¬ 
swer that is both irrelevant and trivial. If he is wise, the scribe 
will take the hint, but need not be discouraged. Allow the person 
interviewed to take his own course and respect his personality. 

A careful scrutiny of the subject’s face is usually helpful, al¬ 
though often it must be covertly made. It enables the reporter to 
determine whether his vis-a-vis is saying something conned by 
rote, whether he is talking merely to make talk, or whether he is 
voicing his inmost convictions. Look your man straight in the 
eye, particularly when asking a question. It shows your own 
earnestness, and often the light that comes or goes in his face is 
more illuminating than the verbal answer returned. 

Methods of approach. Three kinds of people are encountered by 
the interviewer; namely, those who refuse to say anything, those 
who are willing to talk, and those who are not conscious of having 


TYPES OF NEWS STORIES 


205 


any opinions at all. Each must be handled in a different way. 
The reporter must adopt a method born of an intimate under¬ 
standing of human nature. In one instance he will be sympa¬ 
thetic and interested, melting the person interviewed into a flow 
of conversation; in another instance he must ask direct questions; 
in still another emergency he must suggest opinions or gain a 
man’s sanction for a printed statement. He should always take 
for granted that the man is ready to say something for publication. 
If the interviewer begins with "Mr. Blank, may I quote you on 
this?” he is apt to meet with immediate defeat. 

If a prominent person has a hobby, a mission, or a fad, it is 
usually safe to start the talk on his favorite topic, and from that 
to work to other fields. A well-considered interview on the chinch 
bug given by an acknowledged entomologist is more important 
than that same man’s expressed views on the tariff or the social 
evil. He is an authority on insect life, while on other subjects he 
is apt to be profoundly ignorant, and his reactions are therefore 
without value. 

The interviewer should bear constantly in mind that most 
people are more interested in themselves and in their work than in 
anything else. A request for the photograph of a society leader, 
with some comment on the artistic qualities of the picture, will 
often warm her into a gracious mood. Almost every person has 
some spark of vanity that the reporter should look for and utilize. 
Flattery will annoy people of modest demeanor and will be 
quickly sensed by the more intelligent. 

The reporter’s method of approach must never be inconsistent 
with personal dignity and self-respect. As another error it is 
interesting to cite an experience in which two young women under¬ 
took to interview a famous soprano who had come to a city to 
sing at a concert. The two found the singer at a down-town hotel 
and were cordially received. Neither of the interviewers had a 
clear idea of what was wanted, so the interview began with the 
conventional questions: "How do you like Columbus?” "Is this 
your first visit to the Middle West?” The singer was gracious, 
but proffered nothing printable. A more experienced interviewer— 
a man—sought the singer some time later and took another method 
of approach. He began by asking her how she first discovered that 


206 ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 

she had a voice, who taught her voice culture, where she first ap¬ 
peared in public. By this time the singer was talking freely about 
herself and her art; further questions were unnecessary. As a re¬ 
sult a readable interview was secured. 

Courtesy toward the interviewed. A courtesy which any re¬ 
porter will do well to grant his subject is to ask him, at the con¬ 
clusion of any interview, if he has anything further he would like 
to include or develop. When anyone has been considerate enough 
to talk for publication, it is due him that his ideas be plainly, 
clearly, and truthfully presented. This may often necessitate the 
reporter’s chronicling things with which he does not agree, but he 
must accord his subject the same freedom of conviction which 
he enjoys himself, and not seek to color the utterances of another 
by opinions of his own. In interviews on political, religious, and 
social philosophy this phase is certain to present itself. 

The inquiring reporter. The interview is frequently valuable as 
establishing a consensus of opinion, and by its aid the newspaper 
often performs noteworthy public service. When any important 
or trivial question agitates the public mind, a few well-directed 
interviews with average citizens or acknowledged authorities will 
often serve to bring a variety of pointed and interesting reactions. 
The Inquiring Reporter, as one newspaper styles one of its popu¬ 
lar daily features, who is called upon to gather such interviews, is 
often equipped with a camera by which he is able to supplement 
these thumb-nail interviews with small pictures of each person 
he quizzes. 

Blind interviews. Diplomats, congressmen, members of the cabi¬ 
net, men close to the councils of the nation, furnish the most diffi¬ 
cult problems for reporters to solve. They have many ways of 
avoiding the direct answers that reporters long to capture. Men 
of this class (also lawyers trained in keeping confidences) will 
often consent to release important information or opinions if their 
names are withheld. While the value of any information, and par¬ 
ticularly of an interview, is cut in half without its source being 
made known, still the story may be of such value that the reporter 
will honor this request on the homely theory that half a loaf is 
better than none. The resourceful writer will find many ways to 
indicate that what he writes is authoritative, even though he does 


TYPES OF NEWS STORIES 


207 


not use the man’s name. Such interviews are often called "blind” 
interviews. The best example is correspondence emanating from 
Washington, quoting "men high in official circles.” 

Requirements for interviewing. A retentive memory, a feeling 
for apt phrases, a broad and general culture, a pleasant and engag¬ 
ing presence, a quick perception of news values in even chance 
remarks, and an ability to think, listen, and talk almost simulta¬ 
neously are the necessary attributes of one who is to do inter¬ 
viewing. He must, moreover, be able to sense the fact whether he 
is being told the truth or a falsehood. People of prominence can 
seldom afford to deceive when they know that they are being 
quoted in print, but there are cases where a bit of deceit will serve 
the purpose of the subject better than the truth, particularly if he 
be someone suspected of wrongdoing. 

All sorts of persons are subjects for interviews, and all sorts of 
information is sought in interviews, so that only the broadest prin¬ 
ciples can govern. Reporters in interviews have often received 
confessions of guilt which were afterward used with telling effect 
in courts of law. Such information, naturally, is not given volun¬ 
tarily, but is brought out by astute questioning, just as a lawyer 
would do in cross examination. No field of newspaper work pos¬ 
sesses more interest or is more broadening and educational. The 
work tests a man at every turn and requires of him that he be 
all a man. 

Arthur Conan Doyle and spiritualism. In writing the interview 
it is customary to throw the entire subject into the form of a dis¬ 
course. The exact language of the speaker should be utilized as 
far as possible; the reporter should avoid repetition and redun¬ 
dancy, and couch all expressions in dignified, simple English. 
Occasionally it makes good reading to reproduce some of the ques¬ 
tions by which the reporter developed certain facts. This process, 
however, is frowned upon by many newspapers. The reporter will 
also use his own sense of proportion and of sequence, as many 
times the most important thing in a conversation does not develop 
until toward the end, and he will naturally place it in his introduc¬ 
tion, explaining in the body of his narrative how the remark came 
to be made. Again, speakers will often revert to a certain phase 
of a subject and elaborate or explain it. Manifestly all these ex- 


208 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 


planations should be kept together—they are modifiers of the cen¬ 
tral subject. In some instances the interview may be considered 
so good as to win the author’s by-line. It is really a form of in¬ 
terpretative writing. 

The accompanying well-handled interview is centered in the 
opinions of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, a distinguished English phy¬ 
sician and the creator of Sherlock Holmes, who strongly affirms 
his belief in spiritualism as the "greatest religion ever known.” 
Note the interviewer’s use of striking quotation in the introduc¬ 
tory sentence, the revelation of character through speech and 
action, the little enlightening touches and news facts that enliven 
the report, the quality of authenticity that characterizes every 
paragraph. The fame of Conan Doyle, added to the curiosity 
naturally aroused by the discussion of life after death, gives the 
interview a large zone of interest. 

New York —[By Associated Press]—Sir 
Arthur Conan Doyle, creator of the materialis¬ 
tic Sherlock Holmes, but now a sincere believer 
in things spiritual, arrived here last night to 
"raid” America. 

"I propose to make a raid on American 
skepticism,” he said, in explaining the purpose 
of his proposed lecture tour. "I propose to 
raid church and laity alike.” 

Stepping onto American shores from the 
White Star liner Baltic for the first time in 
seven years, the distinguished author admitted 
that the memory and reputation of the master 
detective still surround him, but asserted that 
he had been definitely and enthusiastically 
graduated from material to spiritual things. 

But the atmosphere of materialism was pres¬ 
ent as Sir Arthur, his wife and his three chil¬ 
dren arrived. For the creator of Sherlock 
Holmes was met at quarantine by a man 
equally famous in the world of detectives, 

William J. Burns, chief of the bureau of in¬ 
vestigation of the department of justice. 

PRAISE FOR SPIRITUALISM 

" Spiritualism today,” said Sir Arthur after he 
had greeted the American detective, "is noth¬ 
ing but religion. It is a greater religion than 
anything we have ever known. Fifty years 
from today this world is going to be a spirit- 




TYPES OF NEWS STORIES 


209 



« 


ual world, in which leaders of thought are go¬ 
ing to laugh at our puny attempts to fathom 
the future. 

" Spiritualism teaches a definite knowledge 
of the life after so-called death. It teaches us 
not to fear death and that the passing of heart 
beats is merely a promotion. 

"You see, a so-called dead man goes to a 
happier plane. There is no crime, no sordid¬ 
ness and it is many, many times happier. You 
always have a difficult task proving to a man 
on that plane that he, not you, is really dead. 

"But suppose a man passes who has been 
something of an unsavory individual here. 
Does he go to hell? No, he goes to a sort of 
hospital. That is a gray and a very unhappy, 
unpleasant sort of place. He must remain 
there, however, until his own voluntary acts 
show him fit for the other plane. It is simple 
and beautiful. But it is not materialistic.” 

SEEKS NO PERSONAL PROFIT 

That is what Sir Arthur is going to teach 
here. His lecture tour, or raid, is not for money, 
he claims. Whatever he gets goes to the cause, 
altho he admits he probably will take it away 
from the United States, because we "already 
have all the money in the world.” 

Sir Arthur declared that the church of England 
is adopting most of the tenets of spiritualism, 
altho it cannot admit it. He said churchmen 
the world over are leaning that way in their 
services because "there is nothing else they 
can do and be truthful.” 

Sir Arthur does not believe in so-called medi¬ 
ums, who use silver or glass globes, and cards 
of various descriptions, weirdly moving tables, 
characterizing such things as "fakes.” Spirit¬ 
ualism isn’t that. Spiritualism, he explained, 
is the truth of philosophy and religion com¬ 
bined which cannot be escaped. 

SPEAKS WITH DEAD SON 

"I have many times spoken with my son, 
Kingsley Conan Doyle,” he continued, "but 
that is not strange. I wanted to talk to him, 
he wanted to talk to me. We talked. Kingsley 
isn’t dead—and it is interesting to note that 
from such seances the truth about the after life. 
is becoming more and more apparent. 





2 10 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 

"Why,” said Sir Arthur, "I went to church 
three times a week when I was a child. It be¬ 
came a sort of nausea with me. I became a 
materialist of the worst kind. So I shall allow 
my children to make their own lives. And they 
will be the more ardent spiritualists because 
I do it.” 

Sir Arthur calls himself a theist, a believer 
of an infinite, omnipotent, omniscient God. 

"I am surer of what I will find in the next 
existence,” he said, " than I would be if I were 
carried to the middle of Africa or of Asia and 
set down there. We have the most minute de¬ 
tails of the other world. The change in the 
spirit is gradual for a period. Those who have 
developed spiritually on this earth are further 
advanced in the next existence.” 

EXTOLS PSYCHIC MOVEMENT 

Sir Arthur summoned up his argument as 
follows: 

"That making every allowance for fraud, 
which has been greatly exaggerated, and for 
self-deception, which is far more common, 
there remains a great residuum of proved fact, 
which makes this psychic movement the most 
serious attempt ever made to place religion 
upon a basis of definite proof, which is what 
all earnest minds must desire. It is the one 
great, final antidote to materialism, which is 
the cause of most of our recent world troubles.” 

The Doyles will be in America three months. 

They will visit Philadelphia, Boston, Washing¬ 
ton, St. Louis, Chicago and, possibly, other 
cities. Sir Arthur does not intend to seek to 
organize spiritualism in this country, he said, 
but merely to explain it. 

PRACTICE ASSIGNMENTS 

Reports Based on Comparative Study 
of Newspapers 

The reading of textbooks on newspaper technique, in connection 
with classroom recitation, may be given added point and value by 
assigned investigations among newspapers themselves. Here pre¬ 
cept may be tested by actual practice, and the inquiring sense of 
the student put to work. Various problems may be indicated, and 




TYPES OF NEWS STORIES 


2 11 


conclusions drawn after thorough analysis of journalistic ma¬ 
terials, methods, and policies. 

In the Medill School of Journalism these reports, each five 
hundred words in length, are assigned students every week. The 
reports are deposited in a copy box each Friday afternoon, and 
graded and returned by the instructor. Each report is based on 
some phase of news writing or news gathering stressed in the class¬ 
room during the week, and is intended to fit into a general program 
of comparative studies extending throughout the year. 

The following specifications for reports have proved stimulat¬ 
ing, and may be utilized by instructors directing the course in 
reporting. 

I. THE ENGLISH OF NEWSPAPERS 

Compare three copies each of the Chicago Tribune and the 
Boston Evening Transcript (other papers may be substituted if 
these are not available in the journalism reading-room), paying 
special attention to the English employed by these newspapers. 

Give your findings on the prevailing type of sentence, the use 
of slang and "bromides,” the percentage of colloquial expressions, 
the length of sentences and paragraphs, verbal effectiveness in re¬ 
citing the story briefly, accurately, and clearly. Set down telling 
words and phrases, and explain the meaning of the term News¬ 
paper English, if you think there is justification for using such 
a term. 

Use pertinent examples wherever possible. 

Fold the report so that it will open as a book opens, indicating 
your name, the date, and report number on the outside of the 
manuscript. 

II. TELLING THE NEWS 

Read the Chicago Evening Post and Chicago Daily News 1 local 
stories for one week, particularly with reference to news style. 

Do you find the stories easy to read, concise, impersonal ? 

Are the stories written in news expository style in the third 
person ? 

i For the sake of definiteness particular newspapers are assigned for these reports. 
The instructor may substitute others from the local field. There is a certain advantage, 
however, in studying papers from different sections of the country. 


2 12 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 


Are the stories clear and direct ? 

Do you find any well-wrought stories; if so, quote from them 
to prove your point. 

Are the stories handled in an original manner ? 

Do you think that the reporter made all that was possible out 
of his story ? 

III. MAKING THE SMALL-TOWN PAPER PERSONAL 

Examine small-town papers with the following questions in 
mind: 

How is the personal item and small news story handled ? 

Are the items readable? 

Has the editor missed the feature? 

Do you think the editor could cover personal news more 
completely ? 

Wherein does the country paper make use of the "psychology 
of gossip”? 

Rewrite some of the personals, showing how they could be im¬ 
proved. This can be done as part of your report. 

IV. SUDDEN OCCURRENCES 

Study stories of sudden occurrences in papers of the Atlantic 
and Pacific coast, noticing how they are constructed and where 
emphasis is placed. Use examples from two or three papers, such 
as the Portland Oregonian, San Francisco Chronicle , New York 
Times , New York Sun, New York Globe, New York Tribune, 
Christian Science Monitor, and Springfield (Mass.) Republican . 

What is emphasized in the lead ? Is the lead well constructed ? 
Is it swift in conveying the news to the busy reader ? 

Where did the information of the accident or occurrence origi¬ 
nate, as far as you can tell ? Where might it have originated ? 

Is the story written from the standpoint of constructive jour¬ 
nalism? Does it show the reader how he might avoid such an 
accident? Is this done without editorializing? 

Is sympathy created for the victims? 

Are heroic acts of firemen, policemen, or others noted ? Do you 
think that heroic acts ought to be commended? 


TYPES OF NEWS STORIES 


213 

Do the stories stir the city or government officials to action? 
Are investigations growing out of these sudden occurrences? 

Do any of these stories by their vividness, good taste, language, 
emotional quality, descriptive quality, or picture of action de¬ 
serve places in newspaper memories, as examples of journalism 
which may be regarded as the "little sisters of literature”? 

V. COMPRESSION 

Confining your criticism to local rather than telegraph stories, 
investigate methods of compression in the newspapers of the day. 
Choose examples illustrating compression, or rewrite stories to 
show how the essential facts might be stated without the use of 
unessentials. 

What rhetorical methods of compression may be used? How 
does the newspaperman place a number of facts in a single sen¬ 
tence without undue crowding? 

How may reference words be used to make facts clear and 
concise ? 

Can appositives be used effectively in compression? relative 
clauses? parallel construction? How? 

VI. GROUPING OF LEAD MATERIALS 

Make a study of newspaper leads, noticing in particular how 
important words or phrases are massed into distinctive position. 
Endeavor to find leads that illustrate different features, such as 
time, place, person, cause, result, or significant circumstance. 

Grammatically the leads feature different constructions. For 
example, the lead might start with a simple statement, a preposi¬ 
tional phrase, an infinitive phrase, a conditional clause, an abso¬ 
lute construction, or a series of simple statements. Using the 
same facts show how they might be marshaled with different 
grammatical beginnings. 

The lead advertises the story much the same as the headline, 
but the lead is the intermediate step between the attention-getting 
quality of the headline and the clinching quality of the good ad. 
Do your leads effectively advertise your stories ? 


214 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 

The lead is usually built around the six W’s: What, Who, When, 
Where, Why, and How (inverted W). Analyze leads taken from 
various newspapers, pointing out the what, who, why, etc., thus: 

John Smith (who), a building contractor, 793 Sprague avenue (where), 
was struck by an Illinois Central suburban express at Sixty-fourth street 
(where) near Jackson Park, when he was trying to catch his $10,000 bull 
terrier (how) early this morning (when). 

VII. TYPES OF APPEAL 

Make a comparison of the New York Evening Journal and the 
New York Times, paying special attention to the difference of ap¬ 
peal in these two publications. Which has the idea, apparently, 
that the public has to be "jazzed up”? Which, that the newspaper 
is a record of the events of the last twenty-four hours ? 

Note the differences in newspaper usages of English. Which 
paper is more dignified? more colorful? more ethical? Which 
paper is more free from bad newspaper usages not sanctioned by 
stylebook writers? 

Note the number of stories on the front pages of these papers 
both as to number and emotional appeal. Are these two papers 
justified in appealing to different kinds of readers? 

VIII. THE OBITUARY 

Find in a country paper an obituary, an overwritten one if pos¬ 
sible, and rewrite it as you think it should be written for a daily 
in a town of from seven to ten thousand population. Put into 
your rewrite something of the friendliness that should characterize 
the community newspaper. Give special attention to news value 
and interesting presentation, as well as the formation of an ef¬ 
fective lead. 

IX. THE INTERVIEW 

The interview is one of the principal means of gathering news, 
requiring adequate preparation, tact, courtesy, repartee, as well as 
keen insight in order to direct the questions and glean the nub of 
the news. The reporter ought to be prepared for whatever type 
of person he meets. 


TYPES OF NEWS STORIES 


215 


Select some man or woman, make an appointment if necessary, 
and interview this person on some topic of your own choosing. 
The topic may be a hypothetical question or some subject of par¬ 
ticular interest to the person interviewed. Be sure that it has 
news value. Be prepared to ask intelligent questions. 

In your report tell how you prepared for the interview, what 
questions you asked, what difficulties you found, how you over¬ 
came them, whether you used a notebook (not advisable), and 
then give separately the interview. 

X. THE WIRE STORY 

Find in the Chicago Tribune some "first” story which you think 
the Los Angeles Times might want in addition to the Associated 
Press report. Clip the story, write a query to the editor of the 
Times concerning a follow-up, write a compact story, with any 
possible news features, to be filed for a special wire to the Times. 
Hold down the length of this wire story, which is a special form 
of rewrite or follow story. Remember the angle of the story that 
affects the Far West, and particularly southern California, and 
play it for full value. 

XI. REWRITE AND FOLLOW-UP STORIES 

Select stories from the daily papers which illustrate the methods . 
and treatment of rewrite and follow-up stories. Using morning 
and afternoon papers in their several editions, show how rewrites 
are developed from the morning for the afternoon papers and from 
the afternoon for the morning papers. Show how follow-ups are 
handled. 

Using clippings as examples, tell what new features or what new 
development of the news has been presented. It may be some fea¬ 
ture entirely overlooked by the writer of the first story, some ele¬ 
ment not given prominence in the first story, the next probable 
consequence or development, some cause or motive not suggested 
or emphasized in the first story, the relation of the piece of news 
to some previous or coincident one. When new facts are available 
they may be played as features, but the original and most essen¬ 
tial facts must be presented so as to identify the story completely. 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 


216 


XII. CRIME 

Make a study of the methods of handling crime news in Chicago 
or any other metropolis. Choose two newspapers which obviously 
have different policies and compare their treatment of some crime 
story, with the following questions in mind: 

What is the basis of the psychological appeal ? 

Do you think the editor of either paper could have a more con¬ 
structive treatment of the news? 

Do you find dramatic narrative and vivid description ? 

Do you find exaggeration in order to obtain picturesqueness? 

Do the papers treat crime material in the following order: 
(1) number of lives destroyed or endangered; (2) names of vic¬ 
tims; (3) names of persons charged with crime; (4) arrests of 
suspects and detention of witnesses; (5) clues to the identity of 
the perpetrators; (6) causes, motives, and responsibility, known 
or conjectured; (7) amount and character of loss; (8) methods 
employed in commission of crime; (9) measures to prevent simi¬ 
lar crimes. 

Suggestions for Feature and News Stories 

1. Interview bankers on queer checks they receive, peculiar signatures 
that are almost unrecognizable. 

2. Examine the new designs in picture post cards in some shop. Where 
are post cards manufactured ? Do they follow any certain style from year 
to year ? Is their popularity increasing ? Quote the opinion of some of 
the dealers. 

3. Watch a newsboy and write a story on how he sells papers, particu¬ 
larly "extras.” Get his name, how long he works, how many papers he 
sells in a day, and any other interesting facts. 

4. Visit the police court in your town and investigate the awarding of 
justice. Attend a session of court and describe the prisoner at the bar, 
telling his story if it proves interesting. A pen picture should be available. 

5. What the college barber says as he shaves you. Have safety razors 
hurt the business ? Troubles of the profession. Reminiscences of the old 
days when your father was in school. 

6. Visit a candy store and ask to be shown how confections are manu¬ 
factured. Go into the kitchen, if you can, and there watch the "chocolate 
dippers” and the girls who put the coloring on the candy sticks. A vivid 
picture of the various processes will make good reading. 


TYPES OF NEWS STORIES 


217 

7. Engage the Chinese laundryman in conversation and find out 
what you can about his life and occupation. What does he think of 
America ? 

8. What books have been written by some of your college professors ? 
Are there any novels or books of poetry numbered among their publica¬ 
tions? How many of your instructors are listed in "Who’s Who?” 

9. What kind of work is being done by the boys and girls in manual¬ 
training schools ? Visit one of these schools and describe what you 
have seen. 

10. Make a distinction between the old and new type of college pro¬ 
fessor, drawing a picture of each and making local applications. An inter¬ 
view with an "old grad” should prove interesting in this connection. 

11. Attend a session of the juvenile court and contrast its procedure with 
that of a police court or a court of appeal. Paint the picture of some of 
the boys you see before the judge. 

12. Write a 200 -word story on market day in a big city. Saturday 
morning and night are the best times to observe at the various markets. 
Pick out two or three important things, not forgetting to work in pictur¬ 
esque detail. A picture or two of some of the venders, how they talk, and 
what they sell, will make good copy. 

13. What are some of the hobbies of the professors? Seek out your 
instructors and engage them in conversation on their pastimes and recrea¬ 
tions. Let them tell the story in their own words. 

14. What happens to the old fire engines and fire horses supplanted by 
modern fire-fighting machinery? 

15. Find a chair in a lobby of one of the down-town hotels. Observe 
the crowds that come in. Write a 200 -word description of the interesting 
things you see. You may get a good story from a traveling man. Try 
your conversational gifts on one. 

16. "The Funniest Moving Job I Ever Had,” interview with a leading 
moving firm. 

17. "The Most Frightened Man I Ever Saw,” interview with a rail¬ 
road conductor. 

18. Visit a college bookstore and discover what kinds of books college 
students are reading aside from their school texts. This may be applied 
to a dormitory. What percentage of secondhand books is disposed of at 
the end of the year ? 

19. Interesting things in the museums. Find where some of the most 
noteworthy exhibits have come from. What is the smallest exhibit? the 
largest? the most valuable? the most extraordinary? 

20. Visit the railroad station and paint a picture of some of the inter¬ 
esting people you see in the waiting-rooms or taking trains. Describe the 
scene as the train is announced. Do you see any little comedies and trage¬ 
dies in the making? 


2 l8 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 

21. What do a college girl’s clothes cost her as compared with a college 
man’s? Have the expenses for wardrobe increased arbitrarily? What 
particular fads do you discover on the campus? 

22. What church has the largest Bible class in your town? Interview 
the teacher and talk with some members of the class. 

23. Is the high cost of living reflected in the life of the college student ? 
Have board bills increased? Is more money spent on luxuries than in 
years past ? Have standards of living been raised ? 

24. Consult well-known business men on how they earned their first 
nickels. Tell the story in their exact words. 

25. Describe a football practice for a newspaper. Give the names of 
some of the players and detail some of the plays. Keep your eye on the 
coach and report all that you see. 

26. Find the high-school senior who has not been late since his kinder¬ 
garten days. This inquiry may also be related to night watchmen, railway 
engineers, business men, and the like. 

27. Visit a bakery and give an accurate description of what you have 
seen. Bear in mind that your description must have an appeal to the 
general public. 

28. Describe the training-table at which the college athletes eat their 
meals. What kind of food is served? What are some of the exactions 
placed upon the players by the trainers ? 

29. What are the season’s newest styles in shoes? Contrast prices, 
styles, and models, 

30. Who is the favorite actress among college students? the favorite 
actor? Why? Apply the same questions to authors and musicians. 

31. Walk rapidly past a shop window and describe accurately what you 
have seen. 

32. Engage some old soldier in conversation on the battles he has seen. 
Get him to describe the fiercest conflict he knows. If he has been a pris¬ 
oner of war, secure a picture of life behind the walls. 

33. Talk with the janitors and caretakers around the university campus 
and in the halls. What stories do they tell of the old days? What are 
their troubles and tribulations? Recite the pranks of students who are 
now famous men. 

34. Foreign holidays celebrated in the city. Interview Italians, Chinese, 
or any other race and learn of their folk customs and their days of cele¬ 
bration. If possible attend one of these ceremonies. 

35. Make a visit to a five-and-ten-cent store—preferably on Saturday 
—in quest of materials for a 200 -word description. Watch the crowds 
and talk to some of the clerks about their work. 

36. What is the most popular picture in the Art Gallery, judging from 
crowds that swarm around the picture? Relate the same question to 
exhibits in the Museum. 


TYPES OF NEWS STORIES 


219 


37. How do college students make money? What are some of the occu¬ 
pations they pursue to work their way through college ? Enumerate some 
of the things they do. Be particular about names. 

38. Who is the champion fisherman in your town? Who holds the 
championship for checkers ? Describe these men and if possible detail one 
or two of their most exciting games. 

39. Queer inscriptions in a local cemetery, with a history of some of 
the men whose names are inscribed on the stones. 

40. Attend a meeting of the Salvation Army and describe the kind of 
people you encounter and the effect of exhortation upon them. Give a de¬ 
scription of the men and women dressed in Army garb who are giving 
testimony. 

41. Attend a Sunday service and write a description of what the preacher 
is like without mentioning the church or the name of the minister. Watch 
for the fundamental image or impression. 

42. What kind of lucky pieces do city men carry in their pockets ? Why ? 

43. Interview the telephone girls at the Exchange regarding their work 
and tribulations. What are the requirements for a good operator ? What 
treatment do they receive from patrons? Stories of the "hello” girl. 

44. What is the oldest house in town? Describe it and tell something 
of its history and occupants. 

45. Write a description of a historic building about to be torn down, 
with some account of its associations in the past. 

46. Drop into a moving-picture show during the week. Watch the au¬ 
dience, then question the manager about the kind of films that are popular 
and the average attendance at the exhibitions. Quote directly, and don’t 
be afraid to give a picture of the setting. 

47. Detail plans to beautify the city in which you live. What street 
improvements do you notice ? What new buildings ? What landscape 
gardening? What park extension? 

48. The city editor has been instructed to secure a descriptive story 

urging the installation of sanitary drinking-fountains on the streets of-. 

You are sent to make observations and to picture the evils of the cup-to- 
mouth system now in vogue. Present the facts; don’t editorialize. 


CHAPTER VII 


THE FUNCTIONS OF THE NEWS STAFF 

§1 

IMPORTANT EDITORIAL DESKS 

Editors and reporters. All practical newspapers recognize as 
reporters those whose written matter is referred to a second person 
for corrective judgment and revision, and as editors those who 
supervise particular fields of news requiring special attention, such 
as sports, markets, theaters. With the possible exception of the 
managing editor, who has a general oversight of all departments, 
the work of the editor of each department is without supervision. 
In actual practice gradations are hard to mark. A reporter may 
frequently be permitted to edit his own copy, and the editor, so 
called, will frequently refer his writings to another for revision. 

Newspapers recognize as desk positions those of the supervising 
editors who are called to sit in judgment on the work of their fel¬ 
lows. Such posts of authority vary with the newspaper, and are 
dependent upon its size, its family of readers, and the community 
it serves. 

Duties that on one newspaper are combined in a single position, 
on another may be delegated to two, three, or four different per¬ 
sons. The organization of most staffs is based primarily on the 
idea of using the time of the individual to the best advantage. To 
accomplish this various combinations are made, as the talent of 
the man and the tasks to be performed may suggest. 

Leaving out of consideration the managing editor and the city 
editor, whose duties have already been described, let us briefly 
characterize some of the important editorial posts to be found on 
a metropolitan daily. 

News by telegraph and cable. The telegraph or wire editor 
handles the news of the state, nation, and world as it comes by 

220 


THE FUNCTIONS OF THE NEWS STAFF 


221 


mail, telegraph, radio, wireless, telephone,—sometimes by cable. 
He directs correspondents in much the same fashion as the city 
editor supervises his reporters. 

Telegraph copy, strangely enough, includes a large assortment of 
matter sent in by mail. Most papers make contracts for certain 
telegraph service; namely, the Associated Press and the Uifited 
Press. Since the average daily prints only from fifteen to twenty 
columns of wire stuff, the first problem of the telegraph editor is 
one of selection. He must decide whether a famine in Russia or 
a divorce trial in the Hollywood moving-picture colony will create 
greater reader-interest, and " feed ” his copy accordingly. He must 
also decide what dispatches to print in detail, what to trim to a 
paragraph; he must determine what story to accord bold, smash¬ 
ing heads, what item to tuck away under a single line of 
machine "caps.” 

The bulk of the copy arriving by wire is well written. Errors 
in transcription, however, are common, so that all of it must be 
carefully edited. In larger offices considerable matter is received 
by cable. To cut down expensive tolls, cabled material already in 
the office is not repeated, but is supplied by the man in charge of 
the index and files after consultation with the card indexes con¬ 
taining complete information. Many metropolitan papers employ 
editors versed in foreign affairs and trained in the exacting busi¬ 
ness of converting "cablese” into a coherent, accurate narrative. 

An illustration of how the cable editor would piece together the 
rather disjointed details received by cable or radio, making a 
smooth-running story, is afforded by examining the accompanying 
dispatch from London: 


Original Cable Copy 
(Radio follows same style.) 

French Sept 29 
32 Fc 73 Press Collect 
LONDON APNY 
61545 First lead cabinet possibili¬ 
ties presented by greek revolution 
continue dominate neareast situa¬ 
tion particularly as regards action 
greek army may take thrace with 


Cable as Edited 
(Radio follows same style.) 

London, Sept. 29 (by Associated 
Press).—The possibilities presented 
by the Greek revolution continued 
to dominate the Near East situa¬ 
tion today, particularly as regards 
the action the Greek army may 
take in Thrace with the British 
cabinet sitting almost continuously. 


222 ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 


british cabinet sitting almost con¬ 
tinuously this itself taken sufficient 
evidence what gravity approaching 
events viewed local newspapers ap¬ 
pearing headlines also newsposters 
wherein word quote grave unquote 
frequently used cabinet said be oc¬ 
cupied with many details involving 
preparation long campaign on part 
british troops irrespective general 
policy. 

noia 


The long and frequent consulta¬ 
tions of the Ministers are in them¬ 
selves taken as sufficient evidence 
of the gravity with which approach¬ 
ing events are viewed, while the 
London newspapers are appearing 
with headlines and issuing news 
posters in which the word "grave” 
is frequently used. 

The Cabinet is said to be occupied 
with many details involving prepara¬ 
tions for a long campaign on the part 
of the British troops irrespective of 
matters of general policy. 


The preceding example is a verbatim copy of a cable received by 
the New York office of the Associated Press before it was made 
into a final draft for distribution to newspapers, and alongside it 
the amplified story as it appeared in print. 

The cables as received are in plain text without coding, a proc¬ 
ess entailing loss of time at both ends and therefore not to be 
recommended for news dispatches. Excessive skeletonizing is apt 
to obscure the plain meaning. 

Cable messages are received without capitalization, punctua¬ 
tion, or paragraphs, and a few small words, such as the , and , and 
the like, are omitted. One of the chief tasks of the editor is to 
supply these omissions, and thus convert the raw material into an 
intelligible and interesting narrative conforming in all essentials 
to the cable text. 

At the beginning of the cable as received there is a note " first 
lead,” indicating that the cable message is divided into parts. 
All these parts were available at London at the same time and 
could have been filed together. But experience has shown that 
cable and telegraph operators send short "takes” more quickly 
than long ones. 

The "take” is preceded by the group 61545 , a symbol of identi¬ 
fication, indicating that the dispatch in question was filed on the 
sixth day of the week at 15.45 on a twenty-four-hour schedule, or 
3.45 p. m. This was 9.45 a. m., New York time (there is now a 
difference of six hours, owing to the daylight saving). As the dis- 


THE FUNCTIONS OF THE NEWS STAFF 


223 

patch was received at 11.01 a.m., it was one hour and sixteen 
minutes in transmission. 

In addition to the items issued by the regular telegraph services, 
every paper prints "specials,” furnished them by special cor¬ 
respondents. The telegraph services, previously mentioned, con¬ 
fine themselves to happenings of general interest. Events of local 
interest occurring at a distance are covered by reporters or corre¬ 
spondents of individual papers, who send their news direct to the 
home paper. 

Many newspapers employ a make-up editor; others give those 
duties to the managing editor. If this executive is not called upon 
to schedule the news and to plan the position of news stories on 
the various pages, the telegraph editor takes the reins, since tele¬ 
graph news is the stuff of "streamers” and first-page display. 

Telegraph editors at work. To handle twenty columns of copy 
in a day or a night is in itself a prodigious task. The telegraph edi¬ 
tor in some cases has the cooperation of an assistant, often styled 
the state editor. State editors are made necessary on certain 
papers because of the geographical location of the city and by 
reason of the fact that many big-town newspapers must cater to 
the readers in outlying villages and towns, especially in their 
early mail editions intended for state consumption. State editors 
earn this title because they handle copy sent in by a corps of cor¬ 
respondents stationed in the "provinces.” Capital cities have an 
unusual proportion of their citizenship drawn from the smaller 
towns and villages, and always the urbanite has a clinging fond¬ 
ness for the happenings of his earlier home. There is no satisfac¬ 
tory way for a newspaper to secure this information except by 
making arrangements with someone, usually a young reporter 
connected with a small-town daily or weekly, to furnish the im¬ 
portant news from his locality. 

Where the newspaper is located at the hub of the state and has 
reasonably good railroad facilities, much of this matter may be 
sent by mail. The city daily may also be printed and on sale 
in these neighboring communities within twelve hours after the 
wiring of the news, so that this news has a direct influence in 
increasing down-state and up-state circulation. The first page 
generally carries the words "Early Mail” or "Last Mail” Edition. 


224 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 

The state editor keeps a space book wherein is recorded the 
exact amount of matter used from the bulk sent by each corre¬ 
spondent. Papers pay only for what they use, not for what they 
receive. The state editor receives a diversity of queries; that is, 
telegraphic requests for instructions on specified stories. The cor¬ 
respondent at Lawrence, Kansas, let us say, wires his chief on the 
Kansas City Star : 

John H. Reynolds, president Kansas City 

Bank Commerce, killed here in automobile 

collision. 200 words. JONES. 6:15 p. m. 

The man on the desk will order anywhere from fifty to five- 
hundred words, according to what he considers this accident is 
worth as news. An intelligent correspondent will make clear in 
his query the prominence of the person injured, also the fact that 
he is known in the city where the paper is published. Such in¬ 
formation will make a difference in the amount the state editor 
orders. If it is early in the day or the evening, he will usually 
order a brief story; later, if the news feature turns out to be im¬ 
portant, he will order a longer report. With the ever-increasing 
facility of long-distance telephoning, queries are often made in 
this manner; and when it is close to press time, stories are dictated 
over the telephone, even though the scene be hundreds of miles 
away. The state editor is expected to keep the expenses of his 
department within prescribed limits. 

Out-of-town correspondents, working under the supervision of 
the state editor, must have a canny insight into the sort of news 
suitable for the wire; they must also know something of the space 
and time requirements of the papers they serve. The following 
paragraphs, lifted from a list of instructions issued to New York 
Sun correspondents, will make clear the sort of news most wanted 
by the telegraph desk. 

WHAT NOT TO SEND 

A. Generally speaking, we do not want news of purely local interest; we 
want news of State or national interest. A good "human interest story” 
is of interest everywhere. Mere rumors are not wanted unless the rumor 
be itself an important matter. 


THE FUNCTIONS OF THE NEWS STAFF 


225 


B. Insignificant robberies, burglaries, till tappings. 

C. Fatal or other accidents to conductors, engineers, brakemen, switch¬ 
men, tramps or persons in obscure positions in life, except where there 
are two or more fatalities, or where a large property loss is involved. 

D. Trivial accidents, such as the breaking of legs or loss of limbs by 
machinery. 

E. Murders that contain no element of mystery, or where the people 
concerned are obscure. 

F. Daily accounts of murder trials, except on instructions. 

G. Rapes, abortions, seductions or other similar crimes, except when 
people of great prominence are involved, and then only such facts as are in 
proof through judicial proceedings. Such stories should be handled with 
extreme care. 

H. Ordinary damage suits. 

I. Puffs of hotel or other advertising. 

J. Accounts of county fairs. 

K. Sermons, except on order after query. 

L. Obituaries of obscure individuals. 

M. Reports of celebrations, except when persons of State or national 
prominence speak (on order). 

N. Storms, except where there is loss of life or serious property damage. 

O. Weddings, except when the parties are prominent, in which case 
advance notice should be given by mail, with photographs. 

P. Theatrical or other amusement notices, except in cases of first 
productions of important plays or operas, or some real news feature con¬ 
nected with the appearance of artists of national repute. Avoid the stories 
of professional press agents. 

Q. Stories of medical freaks or animal monstrosities. 

SEND BY MAIL 

Obituaries : send in advance, but only of important persons. 

Unique statistics. 

Animal stories. 

Unique hunting and fishing stories. 

Interesting personalities about men and women in the public eye. 

Odd photographs. 

Scientific discoveries. 

Stories of romance. 

The Sunday editor. The popularity of the Sunday newspaper, 
that compendium of elaborately written news stories and special 
articles combined with a large bulk of Sunday advertising, has 
brought another special editor into the newspaper fold. It is he 


226 ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 

who superintends the planning and writing of a wide variety of 
entertaining and informing articles, many of which lend them¬ 
selves to realistic illustration. Nut a few of these special stories 
are written by the daily reporters themselves, for these men prob¬ 
ably know better than anyone else the kind of story desired; 



HEADQUARTERS OF THE SUNDAY DEPARTMENT OF THE CHICAGO TRIBUNE 

This department has charge of the assembly and issuance of the Sunday news¬ 
paper. It is conducted independently of the city room and has its own editor (the 
Sunday editor), who employs his own staff of writers, editors, and artists. The 
huge piles of mail on the tables and desks are letters which have poured into vari¬ 
ous departments: "Friend in Need,” "Embarrassing Moments,” "Bright Sayings 
of the Children,” and a dozen others 

others are the handiwork of the Sunday staff. The task of the 
Sunday editor, however, is by no means an easy one. He must 
strive for variety in subject matter and diversity of form. Indeed, 
his position depends upon his skill in giving the Sunday paper a 
novel, picturesque stamp of individuality. 

Much of the matter for the Sunday paper must go to press early 
in the week, so that the pressroom may be cleared for the printing 









THE FUNCTIONS OF THE NEWS STAFF 


227 


of the news sections. The rotogravure section, the magazine sec¬ 
tion, the page of comics, the various departments, are planned 
days in advance, printed, and dispatched to outlying districts by 
freight, so that they may be "stuffed” into the live-news sections 
when they come fresh from the press Saturday night. Perhaps the 
best way to indicate the responsibilities attaching to the post of 
Sunday editor is to describe the contents of a typical issue of the 
Chicago Sunday Tribune , largely the expression of the work of 
his special corps of writers and artists. 

The Chicago Sunday Tribune is composed of nine or more 
distinct sections, each featuring different sorts of news. The news 
and editorial section is similar to the week-day Tribune and con¬ 
tains features which appear every day. This section is the work 
of the daily staff. The sports section on Sunday devotes several 
pages to news of every variety of sport, reports of games, discus¬ 
sions of plays and players, with photographs and sketches of ap¬ 
propriate character. Theaters, books, art, and music are treated 
in one section, in addition to society and clubs. There are play¬ 
bills, criticisms, news items, and pictures related to the theater, 
the opera, and the movies. The three best sellers in phonograph 
records, player rolls, and sheet music, as well as announcements 
of concerts and recitals, are reported with the music news; hap¬ 
penings in the world of society, art, and clubs, and book reviews 
complete this section. 

Other important departments of the Sunday Tribune are those 
featuring science, suited to the popular taste, motordom, aviation, 
farm and garden, and the religious world. Considerable space is 
given to financial news and stock quotations in the market section. 
Eight pages of colored comics appear every Sunday, and a maga¬ 
zine of fiction consisting of from twelve to sixteen tabloid pages 
printed in colors on rotogravure presses by a newly perfected 
process. 

Illustrations are profuse in all the sections, but the most inter¬ 
esting and attractive pictures are reproduced in a twenty-four- 
page rotogravure section peculiar to the Sunday edition. 

Subjects of special interest to readers of the Sunday Tribune— 
that is, fashions, for both men and women, cooking, home-building 
and decoration, health and beauty, and patterns and needlework— 


228 ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 

are discussed by experts in their fields. Each of these depart¬ 
ments conducts a question-and-answer bureau on a large scale. 

The "contests” carrying small prizes are Sunday features of 
long standing. Chief among them are "The Most Embarrassing 
Moment of My Life,” "Bright Sayings of the Children,” "The 
Best Joke I Ever Heard,” "Real Life Love Stories.”' "Poems 
You Ought to Know” and "The Potters,” a humorous sketch of 



THE ART ROOM OF THE CHICAGO TRIBUNE 

The artists pictured above produce the pictures that are later made into photo 
engravings. Cartoonists and the men who draw the "comic strips” have their own 
quarters. Some of the sketches for the fiction magazine, and all the pictures for 
the rotogravure section, are made or handled in this room 

a fairly typical American family, are among the other distinctive 
Tribune features. Patterns and fashions are the most popular. 

On the trail of sport. The sporting editor’s desk is peculiar. 
Generically speaking, it is related on the one hand to the dramatic 
critic’s position and on the other to that of the telegraph editor. 
The sporting editor must be a specialist and must know all about 
the various sports and athletic events covered by his department. 
He must also handle a vast hodgepodge of copy sent by wire. 
He has the prerogative of making certain expenditures, and in this 

















THE FUNCTIONS OF THE NEWS STAFF 229 

respect exercises a degree of authoritative control. On large news¬ 
papers this department is expanded to include a number of spe¬ 
cialists, all working under the direction of the regular sporting 
editor, who in turn reports to the managing editor. College ath¬ 
letics furnish a splendid preliminary equipment for the writer of 
football, basketball, golf, wrestling, and the like. 

On metropolitan newspapers sporting news is taken care of in 
a special department under the direction of the sporting editor, as 
local news is gathered, written, and edited by a staff under the 
direction of the city editor. Thus there are reporters who cover 
athletic events, and copy-readers who read and edit copy for the 
sporting page. The sporting editor makes assignments, sometimes 
covers local sporting events himself, and makes up the sporting 
page. In addition he often takes sporting news over the wire. 

Markets and finance. Business as a subject of news is winning 
a larger place in the average metropolitan daily. Indeed, many 
papers print a section given over entirely to commercial affairs; 
others offer special columns devoted to finance, grain markets, real 
estate, stocks and bonds, and live stock. Each particular division 
is handled by a specialist. The financial editor and his assistant 
write the financial leads, take care of railroad notes, and edit 
tables. To these editors goes all copy relating to stocks, bonds, 
and general finance, sometimes in the form of a special letter sent 
by a correspondent in touch with the New York Stock Exchange. 
The Associated Press and the United Press likewise wire finan¬ 
cial transactions. 

The financial editor must keep in close contact with banks, 
manufacturers, and large mercantile concerns of all sorts. An 
ability to respect confidences with utmost care, to keep counsel of 
his own thoughts at all times, and to inspire confidence in others 
is a requisite of far greater importance than any command of 
ornate language. Regularity, accuracy, and an attempt to make 
business news readable should be the guiding rules of all editors 
of business pages. 

Real estate and produce. The real-estate editor writes real- 
estate leads and compiles necessary tables, if any. He is called 
upon to keep in touch with all the important building and real- 
estate transfers in the city and with city improvements. The 


230 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 

grain-market editor and his assistant write grain-market news and 
compile tables. They attend to produce and provision markets as 
well, writing brief leads and compiling tables. 

On some papers all copy from these different editors, except 
tables, which go directly to the printers, is sent in its completed 
form to one copy-reader on the city desk, who edits it and sends it 
to the composing-room. These men could send their copy direct 
to the composing-room, but they prefer the friendly offices of the 
copy-reader, who also makes up the market and grain pages. On 
some newspapers the copy is divided and sent piecemeal to all the 
copy-readers on the combination desk, instead of being handled 
by one man. 

Society and women’s activities. In some instances the depart¬ 
ment of social news rises to the dignity of a desk position, whose 
editor exerts discretionary powers. More frequently society copy 
is handled through the city desk or one of the assistant desks. 
Newspapers print society news as they print a great deal of other 
matter, not because of the intrinsic news value from the editor’s 
point of view but from the fact that it makes a definite appeal to 
a certain class which nothing else will satisfy. As a circulation 
builder society news in many communities is held to be without a 
peer. The reason for this is that the newspaper which appeals to 
the woman is the one that goes to the home, and the one that goes 
to the home is considered the best advertising medium. It is ap¬ 
parent, therefore, that a direct and mercenary purpose largely 
influences newspapers in printing social news. 

For successful work the society reporter needs a retentive mem¬ 
ory, a pleasant personality, and the ability to say a thing directly 
and clearly. As in any other reportorial assignment, judgment to 
refrain from effusions of all sorts and a certain nice discrimina¬ 
tion, more frequently given to women than to men, enabling the 
possessor to recognize almost intuitively relative social distinc¬ 
tions and the varied importance of events, are the chief requisites 
for success in this work. It is obviously of advantage for a society 
reporter to be on terms of friendship with society women, a thing 
sometimes less easy to do than to decree. 

It is the custom with some newspapers to distribute printed 
forms to be filled out by those giving important social entertain- 


THE FUNCTIONS OF THE NEWS STAFF 


231 


ments. Blanks are sent out several days in advance and, when re¬ 
turned, enable the paper to report the events correctly. To insure 
accuracy and prevent practical jokes, announcements of engage¬ 
ments and marriages are accepted for publication only when they 
are furnished by the persons concerned and in writing. 

It is no longer correct to assume that women are solely interested 
in parties, pink teas, and elaborate receptions. Society news was 
the old means of insuring women’s interest, but the new method is 
reflected in the many departments of the newspaper devoted to 
the more serious pursuits of women. The subjects of household 
efficiency, good health, the training of children, women in busi¬ 
ness, art, and books, are discussed by specialists and not by emo¬ 
tional triflers thrilled by the experiences associated with the life 
of the "sob sister.” 

Women have developed peculiar fitness for such departmental 
positions as interviewing, the compilation of news covering organ¬ 
ized philanthropies and literary clubs, the reporting of lectures 
and educational assemblies, "feature” writing (including features 
incident to convention and campaign work), and certain forms of 
criticism, frequently literary, less often musical, seldom dramatic. 

It should also be noted that almost every big news story con¬ 
tains features which a woman writer is best qualified to handle 
because of her training and temperament. 

§2 

THE REPORTER AND HIS WORK 

Reporters, real and false. The real reporter is apt to suffer by 
comparison with the reporter existing in the popular imagination. 
Around him have been woven many strange misconceptions re¬ 
garding his mission, his habits, and his personality. To many 
people, particularly in small cities, he is little more than an ir¬ 
responsible roustabout who roams the streets in search of gossip 
and printable episodes. Others, adopting the fiction of the stage 
and moving-picture, insist upon investing him with a glamour of 
the picturesque. He appears to them in a Bohemian setting and 
usually equipped with a notebook and a bump of impudence. 
This is the man who goes to all the theaters on free tickets, when 


232 ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 

he is not actively engaged in bombarding reluctant listeners. 
While these conceptions are largely gross exaggerations, there is 
still a modicum of truth in them. Some reporters do live a care¬ 
free, knockabout sort of existence—soldiers of fortune by occupa¬ 
tion and journalists by accident. 

As a class reporters are as self-respecting and industrious and 
as well educated and well paid as are men of similar age in any of 
the professions. They have no more reason to fear stage carica¬ 
tures than have the American people to dread the effect of comic- 
supplement pictures of Uncle Sam. The stage reporter, "whose 
only aim in life has been made to appear to be the dodging of 
creditors or the procurement of one meal a day,” never had any 
real place in life, except as an example of the abnormal, and no 
intelligent person ever supposed he had. 

There may still be the occasional Paul Pry, with no high regard 
for sensibilities or decency. Yet this brand of reporter is no 
longer typical. Journalism has taken on a different cast and 
emerged from a trade that demanded little into a profession that 
demands much. Today the reporter goes about his business 
quietly, keeping his self-respect, and applying honorable methods 
to the task of collecting the news. He may be inquisitive; he is 
seldom an ill-mannered boor. He may be a chartless vessel; more 
often he does know where he is going and what kind of cargo he 
is expected to carry home. His is a hard, exacting work. Many 
pleasant experiences and associations brighten his life, but the 
conditions under which he toils are crowded with late hours, fre¬ 
quent rebuffs, disagreeable missions in all kinds of weather and all 
sorts of places. The seamy side of life is the field of his investiga¬ 
tions more frequently than are aristocratic surroundings. 

The reporter defined. The reporter is just what his title de¬ 
clares him to be, a reporter, a man who carries back to his office 
exactly what he has seen and heard and no more. Facts, facts, 
facts,—the outcroppings of humanity at its work and play,—are 
his materials. In dealing with these the reporter has a limited 
latitude. He is employed to do his paper’s bidding, to find some¬ 
thing that affords the reader transient interest or pleasure, or to 
uncover a bit of information the everyday citizen could not other¬ 
wise secure. The moment the reporter assumes the functions of a 


THE FUNCTIONS OF THE NEWS STAFF 


233 


critic or a judge, that moment his services cease to be useful. He 
does his full duty when he records an incident—political, social, 
domestic—without an attempt to interpret it or to use it as a text 
for moralizing. His is an impersonal art, a gratuitous service. 
Fame is not his reward; merely a salary, often a meager one. 

An artist in news. The reporter is an artist in news, his skill 
depending upon his recognition of news values and his art in giv¬ 
ing them readable shape. Many newspapermen are mere messen¬ 
gers sent out by their city editors. Give them a well-beaten track 
and a clearly defined mission and they do good work. The star 
men are those who do not ignore five columns of first-page copy to 
get a five-line item simply because they are sent for that item. 
They are not like pointer dogs, that point at only one bird; they 
attempt to bag the entire covey. Does an amusing bit of human 
nature'in slum or on boulevard strike the highly sensitized plate 
of their minds? It is recorded. Does a chance word or hint 
dropped by a friend or acquaintance arouse their curiosity ? They 
do not fail to take advantage of that. 

Every trail of a news story quickens their alert senses, whether 
it leads near home or far afield. They have the resourcefulness 
to piece together inferences and to add two and two. They leap 
to conclusions, connecting cause and effect, and in the compilation 
of the facts they are willing to slave and to spur every reserve 
power into service. The lure of a big story crowded with mystery 
is like wine to their blood; the very difficulties of reportorial work 
add spice and fascination which make the game the pluckiest and 
the most exciting in the world. 

The reporter’s qualifications. The foregoing considerations are 
sufficient to show that the reporter is more than a mere average 
man, however similar he may be in general appearance. He is a 
trained observer, a specialist who brings a rare combination of 
nerves, shrewdness, and intelligence to the business of gathering 
news. Some of this ability to see things in a discriminating way 
must be innate. Training in a newspaper office will aid incalcu¬ 
lably in developing the news instinct. A college education is an 
immense contribution, but unless a man is able to read human 
nature and, without being told, to recognize a news story when 
he sees it he will always be immeasurably handicapped. 


234 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 

Newspaper offices are filled with half-reporters. Some possess 
the knack of digging up stories through their genius for friendship, 
and yet are unable to put the story into readable form ; others are 
able to clothe in irreproachable diction the facts secured by their 
more energetic brothers, and yet are completely at sea when turned 
loose on an important mission. 

The all-round reporter is a man who unites enthusiasm and in¬ 
defatigable industry with a spirited, racy style; one who has the 
rare tact and magnetic sociability that turn his acquaintances 
into oracles of news. In his kit of personality are to be found hard 
common sense, a good memory, an eye for detail, self-confidence 
that rises manfully above obstacles, a democratic liking for people 
in every walk of life, a wide catholicity, and a receptive mind open 
to all impressions. He must keep the edge of his curiosity con¬ 
stantly whetted; his interest must never lag. 

The reporter’s field is constantly changing. Today he may 
record a bank defalcation, tomorrow describe the plight of an aged 
woman in a strange city, the next day tell the story of a distressing 
suicide, investigate the cause of a fire, or marshal the details 
of a murder. It is his business to keep keenly alive to the hidden 
meaning of the obvious occurrence. Firm in the conviction that 
the streets teem with stories waiting to be discovered by the in¬ 
telligent explorer, the reporter waits, watches, searches. If the 
experienced reporter is sent to report a fire in a large tenement dis¬ 
trict, he will inspect the premises from cellar to garret for a touch 
of human nature that displays the ludicrous, tragic, or pathetic, 
let it be only the rescue of a pet canary by a doting mistress. If 
a suicide is the field of his investigation, the veteran will delve into 
the background, searching for the cause that prompted the act. 
He is willing to dig, dig, dig, sometimes without success, yet with 
never-waning enthusiasm. 

A story about Russell Sage. A favorite story to illustrate how 
a reporter works in collecting news is concerned with the death 
of the discharged clerk who was killed in the office of Russell Sage 
some years ago, after he had thrown a bomb at the financier. It 
will be recalled that the life of Mr. Sage was saved at that time by 
a stenographer who acted as a safeguard, but that the bomb 
thrower was mangled. The news of the attempted assassination 


THE FUNCTIONS OF THE NEWS STAFF 


235 


soon brought the New York reporters scurrying to the scene. A 
long and tedious investigation was made in the effort to establish 
the identity of the dead criminal, but to no avail. His body and 
clothing bore no marks of identification. Finally a young World 
reporter had the resourcefulness to cut a button from the coat of 
the dead man. On the inside of that button, etched into the metal, 
was found the name of a Boston tailor. With this clue, together 
with samples of the fabric clipped from the coat, the reporter 
boarded a train and hurried to Boston. His investigation there 
established the identity of Mr. Sage’s assailant, who turned out to 
be a former employee, and the World the next day printed an ex¬ 
clusive story which was a nine days’ wonder. This occurrence is 
typical of how an energetic reporter will weigh the facts, unsatis¬ 
fied until the mystery is solved. His investigations must neces¬ 
sarily be hasty, but the degree of accuracy which obtains in most 
newspapers despite numerous handicaps is really surprising. That 
mistakes do creep in is undeniable, but this is not so often the 
fault of the reporter as of his informant. 

The reporter’s education. While much has been said of the in¬ 
herent qualifications of a reporter, it is not to be inferred that he 
cannot be trained. Horace Greeley once said that the only way to 
learn the newspaper business was to sleep on a newspaper and eat 
ink, a sentiment which has been yoked with the often-quoted dic¬ 
tum of his that "of all horned cattle, a college graduate in a news¬ 
paper office is the worst.” These views were vigorously assailed 
by Charles A. Dana, who believed that the ability to read Latin 
was of inestimable service to the young journalist. Time has 
shown that Dana was right. 

The newspaper has undergone a marvelous transformation in 
the past fifty years, and has become more than a mere recorder 
of the round of current events. In its enlarged sphere the news¬ 
paper conveys information, furnishes entertainment, enlists sym¬ 
pathy, mirrors the real life, the actions, the feelings, the prejudices 
of the men and women who take part in the great human drama. 
It is on terms of intimacy with all kinds and conditions of people. 
To meet these new exactions increased demands have been placed 
upon the shoulders of the reporter. He cannot know too much or 
have too large a background. He can make use of every scrap of 


236 ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 

information stored in his mind. The tragedy is found in the fact 
that so few newspapermen realize their poverty of equipment or 
feel the narrow range of their interests. 

There are some men who can report only the daily routine of 
the police station; others who can do well the courthouse or the 
city hall and nothing else; still others who know politics and poli¬ 
ticians and stop at this. Few there are whose outlook is big 
enough to include everything that is human and vital. In this re¬ 
gard the college graduate, with a thorough training in the writing 
of clear English and with a tight grasp on the significant move¬ 
ments in history and on the tendencies that are remaking the 
world, has a tremendous advantage. 

The capacity to learn, to browse upon the subject,—the practi¬ 
cal training that comes through college courses and through home 
reading,—will be found vital forces in the work of gathering and 
writing the news. It is by uniting these educational contributions 
with the practical knowledge acquired through actual contact 
with everyday people as actors on the everyday stage that the 
reporter reaches that high grade of efficiency which makes him a 
capable man and a real force in the making of news. 

The greatest peril facing the young journalist is that he will 
mistake the means for the end; that he will come to think the 
mastery of the technique of writing an adequate preparation for 
the practice of his profession. No thoughtful student of the press 
may ignore the importance of skillful presentation of facts and 
opinions. These are his stock in trade, and must be invitingly 
and effectively displayed. But if the journalist is to live up to his 
social obligation and to achieve that position of dignified influence 
to which he properly aspires, then he must put content ahead of 
style. It is not in technical cleverness, but in breadth and depth 
of knowledge, in soundness and sincerity of reasoning, and in 
accuracy of observation and reporting, that the upright journalist 
surpasses those who debase the press and bring it into public dis¬ 
repute. The successful man of letters is he who has mastered both 
of these fundamentals of his calling; the man who has something 
to say, and who knows how to say it. 

There is no realm of knowledge that the journalist is not re¬ 
quired one day to penetrate, and incessant study is as necessary an 


THE FUNCTIONS OF THE NEWS STAFF 


237 


insurance against inconsequential writing as is unremitting toil 
in the perfection of one’s style. If the student be disposed to 
cite the ease with which he may obtain fairly remunerative em¬ 
ployment or sell his casual manuscript, let him not forget that 
every day is, for the journalist, a day of transition in the character 
and methods of the profession. He may well be mindful of the 
lessons of the past; he must, of course, meet the requirements of 
the present; but his triumph or failure will be measured by his 
preparedness for the future. That day’s competition will best be 
met by him who has left no one of the many doors to knowl¬ 
edge unopened. 

A city editor speaks. It is taken for granted that the young 
applicant for journalistic favors is intelligent and sincere. The 
profession has no time for dawdlers attracted by the glamour of 
being "members of the press,” nor will it waste many moments 
on jaded dilettantes in quest of "interesting experiences.” The 
young reporter must be thoroughly in earnest, willing to learn 
and to take hard knocks. He must never think he has learned the 
business; there is always something new to arouse his instincts 
and keep his mind constantly on the alert. 

Erie C. Hopwood, managing editor of the Cleveland Plain 
Dealer, in an address before the Associated Ohio Dailies, had a 
few words to say about the need for high-class reporting : 

I think one of the very fundamental causes for the criticism of news¬ 
papers lies in faulty reporting, and faulty reporting goes directly back again 
to our fundamental proposition that good reporting cannot be had unless 
we are willing to pay for it. Day after day the newspaper publishes stories 
concerning this individual or that, this group in the community, or some 
other group, until in the course of a year, perhaps, practically everyone, or 
some interest in which everyone is concerned, has been touched upon in 
the news columns. Suppose names are wrong, initials transposed, facts 
garbled, little mean insinuations dragged into the story, adjectives used to 
color it, one side exploited and another side suppressed, and so on through 
the entire catalogue of reportorial sins of omission and commission. After 
that sort of a job for twelve months or so, how much confidence does an 
editor expect his community to have in him, and how much can he blame 
that community if, when a hue and cry against newspapers is raised, it says, 
"That has been our experience, too.” 

Newspapers must have better reporting because they cannot afford to 
have any other kind. Any managing editor or any city editor will tell you 


238 ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 

that he would rather have three thoroughly high-class reporters, capable of 
covering any type of assignment and doing it well, than double or triple 
that number who have to be led around by the ear and do not know a news 
story from a three-base hit. A great many newspaper staffs are cluttered 
up with dead wood and excess baggage. Weed it out. Take the money 
that is being paid to the fellow who cannot make the grade and give it to 
the man who can, in order that he may be a happy, useful, and contented 
member of the newspaper craft. 

The result of personal experience and critical study of news¬ 
paper reporting as a profession may be crystallized into a few 
definite essentials underlying successful work. 

Contact with people. Of first importance is the reporter’s per¬ 
sonality. He must necessarily be a good "mixer.” He must cir¬ 
culate among people. It is only in this way that he can acquire a 
knowledge of the topics of constant public interest commonly cov¬ 
ered by newspapers. If, then, you are a candidate for reportorial 
work and are not naturally of a social disposition, you must culti¬ 
vate the habit, for a man of a retiring or diffident manner and 
temperament will amount to little in news-gathering. If you have 
literary talent and lack the social instinct, you may become valu¬ 
able as a "hack ” writer or a desk man; but the desk man on metro¬ 
politan newspapers does not draw the largest salary. You must 
therefore cultivate the habit of conversation as well as of writing. 

You should be able to meet all kinds of men on all kinds of 
occasions, and even though your ultimate ambition is to become 
an editorial writer or an editor, this wide contact with men and 
knowledge of public affairs is absolutely necessary as a foundation 
for intelligent and valuable, work. You should learn all you pos¬ 
sibly can about men—their industrial activity, and their different 
organizations and associations, public, political, social, educa¬ 
tional, and religious. The more you know about these things, 
the better your equipment for newspaper work. 

If you see a man doing an unusual thing, don’t hesitate to inter¬ 
view him in regard to it. Draw him out and make him talk. To 
lead your subjects on to give up what they know is a part of your 
business as a newspaperman. If you can influence them to talk 
in an unusual way, disclosing facts not generally known, your 
success is assured. 


THE FUNCTIONS OF THE NEWS STAFF 


239 

Learning through experience. Next to personality as a valu¬ 
able asset must be ranked practical experience. While courses in 
newspaper making and the advice of men who have been in the 
work are of value in training the young reporter, nothing can take 
the place of actual experience in a newspaper office under the 
direction of a capable city editor who will not be put off with 
makeshifts. 

The young writer should bring to his work a determination to 
learn. His salary at the outset will not be large, but he must re¬ 
member that he is a "cub” and that he has not yet proved him¬ 
self capable and efficient. The temptation is to return a low grade 
of work for the slender wage received. Upon such a platform 
there can be no real success. It is by doing more than you are 
required to do, and by doing this to the top notch of your ability, 
that substantial increases will come. 

If the city editor observes that you are getting more news than 
your actual assignment, and that you are bringing into the office 
stories harvested from the route of an associate, there is every 
reason to believe that your place will become all the more secure. 
After all, the personal interest you contribute counts for much. 
In one newspaper office a sign posted upon the wall reads, Enthu¬ 
siasm is a commodity on this newspaper. Every young reporter 
should bear this statement in mind and approach his work with 
a zeal that will not only result in self-satisfaction because of a 
task well done but will also win the recognition of co-workers and 
those higher up. In the end it is the estimate you place on your¬ 
self and on your business that tells. If you approach it in a spirit¬ 
less way, gathering your news hastily and writing it indifferently, 
you yourself will suffer. 

The reporter is in a position of immense responsibility. He can 
make or blight a reputation. His printed word is law until re¬ 
futed. He should therefore approach this serious mission with 
the realization of the high dignity of his profession and with the 
firm resolve to do his best. 

To work or to fake. A third essential characteristic is industry. 
One of the great temptations of the young reporter is to loaf on the 
job. If he is sent out on a hard mission, and if information is not 
forthcoming after repeated trials, many a young fellow yields to 


240 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 

the allurements of an easy-chair in a hotel lobby or of a game of 
cards. Afraid of losing his place, he later will deliberately "fake” 
a story, falling back upon his imagination for materials that 
should have been garnered by hard work. To dupe the city editor 
once is an easy thing; to write a "fake” story is a boy’s achieve¬ 
ment. Such ruses will eventually result in dismissal, for no rep¬ 
utable newspaper makes a business of publishing falsehoods or 
fairy tales. The best advice that can be given to the reporter is 
to be fair with the city editor. If he finds that he cannot reach 
a news source, he should tell his chief, giving his reasons for 
failure. At the same time he should make every effort to get what 
he was sent for. Of course he may have leisure time, but even 
then he should keep his ears and his eyes open. 

Enterprise and optimism. Permanence in location is advanta¬ 
geous. It is a mistake to desert a field, once you have made your 
news sources secure. The tramp reporter who boasts of having 
worked in every state in the Union may have some advantages in 
experience, but is otherwise handicapped by lack of friends and 
unfamiliarity with the city. The man who stays in one town and 
widens his list of acquaintances, betraying no trust and keeping 
his source of news inviolate, will become more valuable than 
the derelict. 

General intelligence is absolutely necessary. Not only must the 
reporter have this personal contact, but he must also keep abreast 
of the times by the reading of magazines and papers. How do 
other papers treat a news story ? How may an idea encountered 
in a distant contemporary be utilized in the local press ? What 
are the newest fads? What measures are engaging the attention 
of people elsewhere? These are things the reporter should know 
if he is to avoid the hackneyed and the commonplace. 

A cheerful optimism will also be found a great ally in re- 
portorial success. The story that brings a smile to the face of 
a reader and a glint of sunshine to the breakfast table is worth 
infinitely more than the story that is depressing or in bad taste. 

Clearness and accuracy are indispensable. The beginner should 
never take things for granted. An event may be perfectly famil¬ 
iar to him, but absolutely strange to his reader. He should re¬ 
member that it is his business to outline all the facts and unearth 


THE FUNCTIONS OF THE NEWS STAFF 


241 


all the causes, that the reading public may know the episode in 
its entirety. It is his duty to get the news, making no promises 
to withhold any part of it by reason of personal friendship or by 
a bribe judiciously offered. The policy of the paper does not 
enter into consideration at all in a reporter’s field of duty; the 
city editor attends to that. 

Enterprise should be a word filled with meaning to the reporter. 
It is not the story he is going to get that counts, but the story 
that he does get before the other paper prints it. While it is most 
desirable to publish news when it is fresh, investigation of the 
facts should be none the less exacting. If libelous matter isn’t 
written, it cannot get into the paper by accident. Accuracy and 
the reputation for reliability are great assets to the young reporter. 
Even in the matter of names and the spelling of them too much 
care cannot be taken. Nothing is of so much importance to the 
average human being as his own name. A person will forgive 
abuse in a newspaper more quickly than the habitual misprinting 
of his initials. 

Independence and initiative are terms of peculiar significance 
to the new reporter. He should learn to make quick decisions, de¬ 
pending upon his own judgment rather than upon the suggestion 
of the city editor. Street directories and policemen are better 
guides than careless passers-by. He should know the streets and 
the location of the principal places of business and amusement. 
He should strive to remember names and faces and to spare his 
chief the answering of needless, not to say foolish, questions. De¬ 
pendence on others will never get him out of a tight box; he must 
learn to think for himself. 

A charitable attitude toward the people and the city at large 
should be. cultivated. To be flippant about religion, races, nation¬ 
alities, persons, causes, or the city in which one works is, to say 
the least, in bad taste. To seek personal revenge for fancied 
slights by attacking people covertly in the paper will prove the 
worst kind of policy, and at the same time will seriously handicap 
a reporter as an unbiased witness. 

Morsels of advice. Some minor suggestions concern themselves 
with the incidentals of news-gathering. 

Keep growing. 


242 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 


Don’t use cheap slang. 

Don’t burden the memory needlessly when paper is cheap and 
a pencil is handy. 

Get your copy in early, especially for an afternoon paper. 

Learn to use the typewriter, but do not trust too implicitly to 
the accuracy of your fingers. 

Don’t forget that a neat personal appearance and temperate 
habits will increase your usefulness. 

A code of ethics for reporters. Many years ago Charles A. 
Dana, editor of the New York Sun, prepared a code of rules for 
his "bright young men,” a code which has never been superseded. 
It contains many admirable newspaper ideals, and may be fol¬ 
lowed with profit by reporters, young and old. These golden 
rules follow: 

I. Get the news, get all the news, and nothing but the news. 

II. Copy nothing from another publication without perfect credit. 

III. Never print an interview without the knowledge and consent of the 

party interviewed. 

IV. Never print a paid advertisement as news matter. Let every adver¬ 

tisement appear as an advertisement. 

V. Never attack the weak or the defenseless, either by argument, by 
invective, or by ridicule, unless there is some absolute public 
necessity for so doing. 

VI. Fight for your opinions, but do not believe that they contain the 
whole truth or the only truth. 

VII. Support your party, if you have one, but do not think all the good 
men are in it and all the bad ones outside it. 

VIII. Above all, know and believe that humanity is advancing; that there 
is progress in human life and human affairs; and that as sure as 
God lives, the future will be greater and better than the present 
or the past. 

Dana enlarged this code a few years later with these additional 
maxims, which are here given in serial order: 

IX. Never be in a hurry. 

X. Hold fast to the Constitution. 

XI. Stand by the Stars and Stripes. Above all, stand for Liberty, what¬ 
ever happens. 

XII. A word that is not spoken never does any mischief. 

XIII. All the goodness of a good egg cannot make up for the badness of 

a bad one. 

XIV. If you find you have been wrong, don’t fear to say so. 


THE FUNCTIONS OF THE NEWS STAFF 


243 


Newspaper reporters of Civil War days and the decade follow¬ 
ing were men chiefly noted for their dogged persistency in 
"chasing” news, rather than for their proficiency in writing it 
attractively. They were willing to undergo the rigors of battle, 
siege, and blockade to get the news first, nor did they scruple at 
the methods employed. 

Questionable practices. There are many stories illustrating the 
fierce competition of those eventful years—none more typical 
than that related of President Lincoln on the occasion of his visit 
to West Point to consult with General Winfield Scott. Two 
papers, the New York Times and the New York Herald , got 
wind of the meeting. The Times immediately dispatched Joseph 
Howard, Jr., to West Point. He crossed the ferry in a rainy mist 
and clambered aboard a stagecoach bound for the hotel on the 
parade ground. The Times man soon became aware of the pres¬ 
ence of another passenger, whom he shrewdly guessed to be a 
rival reporter. To get him off the scent Howard curled himself 
up near the door, and as the coach lumbered around a curve in 
the road, lurched forward and dropped his hat out of the window. 
With a word of annoyance he leaped out in pursuit of the disap¬ 
pearing headgear, ordering the driver to keep on; then hurrying 
across the fields, he got inside the hotel. He had been there before 
and happened to know the clerk, so borrowed his uniform and 
stationed himself behind the hotel register, a benignant smile upon 
his face and a pen in his hand. A few minutes later his comrade 
of the coach entered. Howard whirled the register with a sym¬ 
pathetic remark about the nasty weather. Conversation brought 
out the information that the stranger had been commissioned by 
the Herald to get the news of the conference between Lincoln and 
Scott to take place at that hotel. The bogus clerk told his con¬ 
fidant that the two men had been there, but had just left to cross 
the ferry to meet some distinguished politicians from New York. 
The clerk was sorry, but anxious to serve. He secured a carriage 
for the Herald man, to convey him to a small hamlet several miles 
south, where a rowboat and a patient boatman lay in waiting. 
The reporter hurried away in the rain and mud. Hardly had be 
gone before Howard was back in his business clothes. He soon 
found a talkative secretary who was present at the conference, 


244 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 

and wriggled the story out of him. Half an hour later the wires 
were humming with it. In the meanwhile the Herald man searched 
for the boatman, to no avail. Disgusted he tried to find his way 
back, but the coachman obligingly lost the way. When the irate 
reporter did arrive at the hotel after his fruitless chase he found 
that President Lincoln had gone to bed, and could not be dis¬ 
turbed. The next day the Times beat the town. 

This experience is only one of many that could be related to 
show how a certain type of newspaperman is willing to lie, steal, 
or deceive to get an exclusive story. The practice did not die with 
the Civil War. Even today some reporters, unworthy of their call¬ 
ing, think nothing of rifling wastebaskets, of quoting men after 
they have promised to "keep the names out of the paper,” and of 
betraying every confidence, that they may get a good story 
printed. This ability to get the news at any cost even if you have 
to "go to the mouth of hell for it”—to use a newspaper term- 
passes muster temporarily in certain circles as journalistic re¬ 
sourcefulness. It cannot be excused on any ground. Thinking 
journalists no more condone such work than they do embezzle¬ 
ment or physical violence. On no reputable paper will a reporter 
be asked to lie, steal, or play the eavesdropper. That somewhere, 
at some time, it may be intimated to him that such things are 
advantageous need not be denied. Throughout the length and 
breadth of the land there are hundreds of newspapermen who can 
testify that after years spent in the practice of their profession it 
never has been necessary to forfeit self-respect or to betray con¬ 
fidence reposed in them. 

Indeed, to guard inviolate the source of information is the first 
thing which every reporter must learn. If a man gives him a bit 
of information on the condition that its source be not revealed, 
then this obligation becomes as one of the Ten Commandments. 
Many a good newspaperman has seen himself "scooped” rather 
than betray such a confidence, but in the long run, as in all other 
cases, the practices of honor pay. 

Respecting a confidence. It is a reporter’s business to ask ques¬ 
tions, not to tell what he knows, and an ability to say nothing is 
sometimes a most valued asset. He is thus prevented from doing 
an unwitting wrong to his paper or to a source of news. 


THE FUNCTIONS OF THE NEWS STAFF 


245 


Will Irwin, formerly of the New York Sun , which takes for 
granted a code of ethics on the part of its reporters, tells a story 
of the standards maintained by reputable newspapers of today. 

On that critical day in the Life Insurance fight when the Frick report 
was read in committee, a Sun reporter caught one of the committeemen and 
went up with him to the station. The newspapers were scouring heaven and 
earth to find out what was in the Frick document; a copy was worth fine 
gold. As the committeeman reached the train gate, he turned and said: 

"Don’t tell anyone that I put you on—but there is a stack of those re¬ 
ports just inside the committee room. Five dollars to the scrub woman, 
and you turn the trick, I think.” 

The reporter, a little new on the Sun , did not like this piece of business; 
nevertheless, he telephoned to George Mallon, the City Editor, and laid it 
before him. 

"The Sun man who would do that trick would get fired,” said Mallon. 

In a speech delivered before the assembled newspapermen of 
New York, where, if anywhere, questionable practices obtain, 
Henry Watterson, who occupied every position on a newspaper, 
from top to bottom, after years of experience summed up his 
wisdom and advice in the following words: 

I draw the line at straight lying and the station house. The city editor 
should never consider himself a brevet chief of police, the reporter a semi- 
professional detective. The newspaper, with the law, should assume the 
accused innocent until proven guilty; should be the friend, not the enemy, 
of the general public ; the defender, not the invader, of private life and the 
assailant of personal character. 

The newspaper is not a commodity to be sold over the counter like dry 
goods and groceries. It should be, as it were, a keeper of the public con¬ 
science, its rating professional, like the ministry and the law, not com¬ 
mercial, like the department store and the bucket shop. Its workers should 
be gentlemen, not eavesdroppers and scavengers, developing a spy system 
peculiarly their own, nor caring for the popular respect and esteem. 

I know that it is the fashion to call such sentiments old-timey, just as is 
the custom to call old men courtly who are not actually vulgar and slovenly. 
Self-respect can never grow obsolete, and self-respect is the bed rock of the 
public respect. There will be shyster journalists as there are shyster 
lawyers, unworthy newspapermen as there are unworthy clergymen. But 
in each calling the rule is bound to be otherwise, and they who seek the im¬ 
print of the higher, instead of the lower brand, will be sure to find it. In 
short, my dear young friends, I stand for the manhood, for the gentleman- 
hood of our guild, a profession and not a trade. 


246 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 


I hope there is no one of you here tonight who will not be one day a 
managing editor, at least a city editor, and whenever any one of you finds 
himself in a position of authority, let him carry these few precepts in his 
mind and in his heart: to print nothing of a man which he would not say 
to his face; to print nothing of a man in malice; to look well and think 
twice before consigning a suspect to the ruin of printer’s ink; to respect the 
old and defend the weak; and lastly, at work and at play, daytime and 
nighttime, to be good to the girls and square with the boys, for hath it not 
been written, "of such is the Kingdom of Heaven”? 

It is an axiom that newspaper reporters must never put them¬ 
selves under personal obligation to public men, for by so doing 
they might seriously impair their future efficiency. The sentiment 
against a newspaper reporter’s holding any public office and at the 
same time following his profession is growing so strong that such 
instances are rare. 

In brief resume, to secure full measure of success the reporter 
needs distinctive personality, practical experience, industry, knowl¬ 
edge of his community, general intelligence regarding men and 
measures, an optimistic spirit, clearness and accuracy in state¬ 
ment, enterprise and initiative, all tempered with integrity, char¬ 
ity, and mental breadth. 


83 

REWRITE MEN AND COPY-READERS 

Reporting news by telephone. A generation ago, when the mak¬ 
ing of newspapers was much simpler than it is now, all reporters 
were writers. Today the metropolitan newspaper, in its endeavor 
to present the day’s history within a minimum time after it occurs, 
is confronted by the necessity of keeping a number of reporters 
constantly afield gleaning news to be transmitted to the office by 
telephone. Other men are delegated to receive the details of these 
telephoned stories and to weave them into newspaper copy. The 
system makes for swift chronicling of news, but often results 
in inaccurate reporting because of faulty hearing, and the fact 
that the rewrite man has not been in direct contact with the source 
of his material and is therefore apt to inject elements supplied by 
the imagination. 



a newspaper’s creed in stone 

The carved stone figures of Gutenberg, Caxton, Plantin, and Franklin, and the 
colophons, or printers’ marks, on the decorative tablets between the second-story 
and third-story windows of the Detroit News building are tributes to the master 
craftsmen of another age. The inscriptions on the parapet are expressive of the 
ideals of a newspaper. Professor F. N. Scott, of the University of Michigan, is 
the author. The inscriptions are as follows: 

Mirror of the public mind; interpreter of the public intent; troubler of the public 
conscience. 

Reflector of every human interest; friend of every righteous cause; encourager of 
every generous act. 

Bearer of intelligence; dispeller of ignorance and prejudice; a light shining into all 
dark places. 

Promoter of civic welfare and civic pride; bond of civic unity; protector of civic 
rights. 

Scourge of evil doers; exposer of secret iniquities; unrelenting foe of privilege and 
corruption. 

Voice of the lowly and oppressed; advocate of the friendless; righter of public and 
private wrongs. 

Chronicler of facts; sifter of rumors and opinions; minister of the truth that makes 
men free. 

Reporter of the new; remembrancer of the old and tried; herald of what is to come. 

Defender of civil liberty; strengthener of loyalty; pillar and stay of democratic 
government. 

Upbuilder of the home; nourisher of the community spirit; art, letters, and science of 
the common people. 






































248 ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 

The rewrite man in most cases sits at a desk near the city editor 
and confers constantly with him concerning the amount of space 
to be given various stories, their place in the paper, and the most 
interesting feature which should be emphasized. By means of the 
intercommunicating telephone system these matters may be dis¬ 
cussed by the city editor and rewrite man with a reporter on the 
outer rim of the city, thus saving much time and bringing co¬ 
ordination of effort. 

The qualities required of the rewrite man are rapid judgment 
on news values and the ability to write hurriedly and with good 
results under pressure. He should be able to visualize the story 
as it comes over the telephone, so that he may reproduce it as if 
he had seen it happen. Many times he is required to make a co¬ 
herent and accurate story out of what ten reporters have told him, 
at the last possible moment before the deadline. 

The rewrite man, as distinguished from the copy-reader, is an 
inside reporter. It often falls to his lot to write follow-up stories, 
giving additional details or a new point of view. For such work 
he must be able to see the story with all its possibilities and its 
relation to events, past, present, and future, in order to base the 
new lead on some feature overlooked, perhaps not given promi¬ 
nence in the first story, or on some probable development. 

Sifting the news. The city editor personally, or through as¬ 
sistants, directs the flow of copy covering local events. From the 
business department, from the composing-room foreman, or from 
the managing editor he learns each day the number of columns 
available for local copy. This amount varies from day to day. 
From his assignment book and his survey of the field he is able to 
estimate how much news there will be, and governs his space and 
the handling of stories accordingly. He determines the approxi¬ 
mate length of each story. That which on one day may be worth 
six hundred words, on the next, because of space conditions, is 
worth only four hundred; and stories that on a dull day might be 
used gladly, on a crowded day will be thrown out altogether. 
Again, any unexpected event of magnitude, such as an accident, 
fire, murder, or riot, may change conditions in a minute, and the 
city editor must reshape his course. It is both difficult and ex¬ 
pensive to change the number of pages once it has been decided 


THE FUNCTIONS OF THE NEWS STAFF 


249 


upon, arid only under extreme provocation is this done. The 
number of pages is usually determined each day by a conference 
between the managing editor and the business manager, when the 
one knows how much news and the other how much advertising 
is in sight. 

The office in action. The work of the copy-readers is done in 
cooperation with the make-up editor, who is under the direct 
supervision of the managing editor. As press time approaches, 
the make-up editor has the assistance of every copy-reader in the 
shop, while the city, telegraph, and cable editors keep him con¬ 
stantly posted as to new stories. In some offices all the copy- 
readers, the managing editor, his assistant, the make-up editor, 
the city, telegraph, and cable editors go to the page forms at 
press time. 

After the city editor has completed his work for the day and 
handed over his schedules the executives take their places at their 
desks. At the editorial council table sit the managing editor, the 
assistant managing editor, and. the make-up, or news, editor. At 
the city desk are the city editor and copy-readers, with the assis¬ 
tant city editor on the day desk. The telegraph editor and copy- 
readers are at the telegraph desk and the cable editor and 
copy-readers at the cable desk. At the sports desk are the sport¬ 
ing editor, copy-readers, and assistants. The reporters and re¬ 
write battery are writing copy; news is coming in over leased 
wires, pneumatic tubes, and from the Associated Press and City 
Press. At the telephones are the copy-boys, who also rush com¬ 
pleted copy to the composing-room elevator. Every man at this 
time can be located by the city editor in case of necessity. The 
scene in the news room is graphically illustrated in the frontispiece 
of this book. 

§4 

WASHINGTON CORRESPONDENTS 

The news hub of the nation. Because it is the seat of the gov¬ 
ernment, a vast amount of national, governmental, and political 
news emanates from Washington. To a greater or less degree the 
eyes of the nation are focused on the White House and Congress. 
It is small wonder, therefore, that one of the important occupa- 


250 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 

tions of the nation’s newspapers is that of covering Washington. 
Agencies of various sorts have been developed for the purpose of 
assisting the newspapers by gathering and distributing the news 
of the nation’s capital. 

Metropolitan newspapers usually retain their own correspond¬ 
ents in Washington to follow the trend of affairs and to furnish 
them with special articles. These reporters must be men experi¬ 
enced in politics and public affairs; they need to cultivate the ac¬ 
quaintance of congressmen and senators, cabinet members and 
diplomats, and must keep in close touch with significant happen¬ 
ings at the White House. The Washington correspondent most 
valuable to his paper has learned to evaluate movements from the 
point of view of their economic and social importance, and has 
ceased to be politically minded. He is called upon to interpret 
the news as well as record it. 

For the smaller papers scattered over the country, which cannot 
maintain their own Washington correspondents, the press bureaus 
furnish a general news service. Events of national importance 
occurring in Washington are covered by the bureaus, and re¬ 
sumes of matters of national concern are immediately broadcasted 
to subscribing papers. Of course detailed and specific information 
is only supplied by request. When a paper in Kansas wants to 
know what stand its senator has taken upon a certain measure 
affecting the state, it may order an interview or a special story, 
and the bureau will furnish by wire or mail as much matter as the 
paper may direct. The press bureaus go even further. When they 
have news of concern to a particular section of the country, they 
send a brief "query” to the papers likely to be interested, and the 
editor orders as much of a story as he thinks the situation 
warrants. 

Publicity and publicity agents. An important development in 
the gathering of news in Washington has grown up lately with 
the rise of the "publicity man.” Washington is crowded with the 
offices of associations, leagues, and bureaus, representing all kinds 
of interests and furnishing publicity and propaganda in great 
quantities. Press bureaus and newspaper correspondents are 
nearly swamped by the bulk of material which comes to them in 
the form of "hand-outs.” A large percentage of these official 


THE FUNCTIONS OF THE NEWS STAFF 


251 


statements finds its way to the wastebasket, but frequently news 
which could never be uncovered otherwise is obtained by this 
means. The advantage of the prepared interview or statement, 
to the newspapers as well as to the one who furnishes it, is its ac¬ 
curacy. Of course "hand-outs” are often prepared with a view 
to coloring the news, but pure propaganda or advertising is 
quickly detected and will not be tolerated in reputable news¬ 
papers. The president of the United States now resorts to the 
"hand-out” as a means of expressing his attitude on current 
measures, because he has not the time or energy to receive fre¬ 
quent calls from the press, although he does meet correspondents 
in a body at a stated period every week. The country has grown 
considerably since the days when President Lincoln used to see 
every reporter who called. 


CHAPTER VIII 


DISPLAYING THE NEWS 

Headlines and policies. The writing of headlines to display the 
news is the genesis of make-up, and make-up is the outward sign 
of the policy of the newspaper. Indeed, the character of the news¬ 
paper—conservative, radical, or mildly sensational—may be de¬ 
termined in almost every instance by its typographical dress. The 
force that directs the selection and the writing of the day’s hap¬ 
penings is also at work in the presentation of these events on the 
printed page. 

The writing of heads is a modern art that has developed steadily 
with the progress of newspapers. Files of papers a hundred years 
old or more show but the most meager form of headings, fre¬ 
quently none at all. Such roaring words as FIRE! ! ! KILLED ! ! ! 
often appear in black type at the head of a column, but little else; 
while important news often finds itself buried under the label 
"Local Brevities.” With the expansion of the modern newspaper, 
however, all this has been changed. The work of displaying the 
news, once intrusted to the telegraph editor, is now turned over to 
a body of experts whose sole business is to write the heads in such 
a way that the reader may get the gist of the day’s events by scan¬ 
ning the caption, and be tempted to read further through the 
arousing of his curiosity. 

For the purpose of practical demonstration there are shown at 
the end of the book exhibits marked A, B, C, D, E, F, G, H, I, and 
J taken from leading newspapers throughout the United States. 
These specimens have been chosen with the view of giving as many 
varieties as possible, all approximately of the same date, so that the 
student may observe how a great international incident, in this in¬ 
stance the death of Pope Benedict,is regarded indifferent localities, 
how different minds seized on interesting phases of the same story. 

The mission of the head. The purpose of the modern headline 
is (i) to advertise the news honestly and thus sell the paper; 

252 


DISPLAYING THE NEWS 


253 


(2) to bulletin and summarize the facts, or at least the most strik¬ 
ing features of the story, as a guide to the reader; (3) to make 
the paper attractive and easy to read by displaying what other¬ 
wise would be monotonous blocks of closely packed type; (4) to 
grade and organize the news in the degree of its importance. 

The builder of heads is confronted by a physical condition 
which no other writer anywhere encounters. Exactly so many 
letters and spaces will go into a column measure. He must ex¬ 
press what he is trying to say in words of a certain length. In the 
accompanying head, from the New York Times , it will be found 
that the form used calls for seventeen letters and spaces in each 
one of the two lines in the display bank. Within a very narrow 
range this will be found true of other heads written on the same 
type pattern. That this rule is not absolute and invariable is 
due to the fact that some letters are wider than others. The letter 
M is approximately twice as wide as the letter /, and in practical 
head-writing the letter M is usually counted as a unit and a half, 
and / as only half a unit. Absolutely perfect heads are rare. 


GRANDJURY DROPS 


17 units (maximum)' 

17 units (maximum) ^ 
7-em dash 


Display lines 


Adjourns Without Indicting 
Anybody for Alleged Threats 
Against Stock Exchange. 


28 units (maximum) 'I 

| First deck 
24 units ( inverted 

| pyramid) 
18 units J 


7-em dash 


MORE WITNESSES HEARD 


Cross line , 21 units (maximum) 


7-em dash 


Presented All the Evidence That 
Mr. Cromwell Could Fur¬ 
nish, Mr. Pecora Says. 


2Q units (maximum) ") 

j Second deck 

22 units S* ( inverted 

I pyramid) 
18 units J 

7-em dash 
















254 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 

The parts of a head. It will be seen, then, that a further physi¬ 
cal problem, that of proportion, is necessary. The subsidiary sec¬ 
tion of a head immediately following the top lines is usually 
denominated a bank or deck. When a head has more than one 
bank these are generally of the same length, since by custom they 
are set in the same style of type. Banks are usually, but not 
always, separated by what are called cross lines or even double 
cross lines (see sample). Dashes mark off head divisions. 

A knowledge of type is valuable to the writer of heads, but it is 
not indispensable. So-called conservative papers have what are 
called style heads; that is, they have only a certain number of 
permitted forms, designated by letters and numbers, so that the 
head-writer has only to mark the head with the letter and number 
desired. The compositor will accordingly know in what style and 
type to set it. Among such papers are the Kansas City Star , the 
Los Angeles Examiner , the Chicago Tribune , and the Philadelphia 
Public Ledger (see exhibits). 

Where a paper does not hold rigidly to standardized display— 
and this number is ever increasing, particularly since the World 
War, when big news paraded across the page in huge type — 
the head-writer must designate thus: "Six column streamer, 72 
point, Railroad Gothic.” This streamer will be followed by a suc¬ 
cession of headlines arranged on the outside columns to the right, 
where they may be most naturally read; this permits the story to 
be continued from the end of the column to the second page with¬ 
out a break. 

Three-part step-down head. Most papers of today make all the 
parts of a head independent of each other; that is, each complete 
in itself. If an inverted pyramid is used to follow the top display 
lines of the head, that pyramid will state a fact in its entirety and 
not extend the sentence into a second division of the head. Every 
succeeding deck, moreover, should contribute new information. 
The cross line will also be complete in itself and not a disjointed 
part of a phrase or sentence. Probably the most satisfactory style 
of head is what is known as the break-line or step-down head, one 
that utilizes white space on each side of the type. It seldom uses 
more than three lines. Examine the attached specimen: 


DISPLAYING THE NEWS 


255 


EUROPE NOT ON 

13 units (maximum)' 

VERGE OF WAR, 

13 units S 

LAMONT HOLDS 

13 units J 

Financier Speaks at Chi¬ 

/ CII1 Uaoll 

20 units (maximum) 1 

cago Bank Banquet. 

17 units J 

5-em dash 


Half-diamond head. A half-diamond head is frequently used 
to give a sensational effect. It is also utilized on department 
pages to break away from the routine news treatment. This head 
is characterized by its half-diamond shape, in combination with 
a hanging indention, with the first line running flush to the col¬ 
umn. As a head form it readily suggests that the story has a fea¬ 
ture quality. The following example is from the feature page, 
as indicated by the light, rather feminine type in contradistinction 
to the usual condensed Gothic: 

'MIDNIGHT ALARM' 

OLD-FASHIONED 
MELODRAMA 


Near-Wrecks, Fires and Such 
Things, Planned for Thrills, 
Provide the Excitement. 


14 units (maximum)' 


Display lines 


5-em dash 


25 units (maximum) 'I 


23 units 
21 units 


First deck 
f (Hanging 
| indention ) 

J 

















256 ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 

Emphasizing the feature. The head-writer carefully scans the 
story before him to discover what is its most salient point. Here 
individual judgment must enter, but the degree to which this judg¬ 
ment may be identical or quite generally held is indicated by the 
close approximation to the same idea which the leading head- 
writers of the country seized in handling one of the most impor¬ 
tant stories in recent years. Every heading reproduced in exhibits 
A-J, at the end of the book, shows that the announcement of the 
Pope’s death was told simply and forcefully. The bulletin re¬ 
ceived by the afternoon papers, which was used as a basis for 
streamer headlines, later turned out to be based on error, so that 
some of the papers were led astray; a few printed the bulletin 
with reservations (see the Boston Traveler). Sunday morning 
papers were able to get authentic information, as the headlines 
show. Notice also how pictures are used to enhance the appeal. 

The use of vigorous words. Even slight experience in writing 
heads will convince any intelligent newspaperman that there is 
an undoubted value in short, pithy words. Anglo-Saxon is more 
apt to be in the heading than in the body of a story. Accordingly 
the practice has developed of omitting articles and other unessen¬ 
tial words that can reasonably be understood from the context. It 
will be noticed, bearing on the death of the Pope, that only one 
heading starts out with The. The writing of heads in the present 
tense is common, even though the event has long since crawled 
into the past, as in this instance of the chronicling of death. 
The universal use of the active verb in the present tense is justi¬ 
fied on two grounds: (i) it is more direct and forceful, and (2) all 
that is printed in a newspaper is supposed to be news. The past 
tense is essentially the voice of history. Several conservative 
newspapers insist, however, on headlines in exact accord with the 
tense of the verbs in the story. 

The same desire for force leads to the use of verbs and nouns 
in heads in preference to adjectives and adverbs. Carried still 
further, unusual words which do not find place in the article often 
appear in heads. There are more slays, probes, rifles (verb), slugs, 
in headlines than in the bodies of stories. The wisdom of the use 
or overuse of such words is to be questioned; the excuse is that they 
are short and allow the writer to pack a wallop into his headline. 


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Two-deck heads are the most widely used, because they are easy to read and easy to write. The well-written head 
not only summarizes and sells the story, but its very style is an index to the kind and importance of the story. 

Lower-case type is becoming popular; it is both legible and artistic 











































































258 ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 

Other requirements. Expert head-writers insist that each sec¬ 
tion of a head should be a constructive sentence; that is, it should 
have a subject, a predicate, and should tell something. Often this 
rule is violated, particularly when the verb is inferred, but this 
practice does not make for force. Such words as is or are must 
often be taken for granted, but in every case the sense ought to be 
clear. With recent years the practice of using abbreviations has 
been tolerated in headlines. Twenty-five years ago it was not 
thought of. Y. M. C. A., G. A. R., and U. S. are sufficiently well 
known to find entrance into headlines. It will probably be con¬ 
ceded that the appearance is not so good, nor the practice so 
dignified. In the same manner the use of numbers, formerly 
tabooed, is coming into more general use, since they often consti¬ 
tute important news; as, 250 Lost in Ocean Storm. 

The beginner in the art of head-writing will do well to remem¬ 
ber that approximation has no place in his work; everything must 
be exact. It is quite as impossible to get an extra letter or space 
in a column measure as it is to get an extra dime out of a dollar. 
The failure to fill a line properly leaves too much white space and 
robs a heading of an appearance of uniformity and balance. 

Rules for building headlines. In a general way the size of a 
head has some relation to the length of an article. While a good 
deal of attention is given to the big heads which will be dis¬ 
played on the first page, quite as much work is involved in the 
two-line and three-line captions that announce the smaller items 
scattered throughout the paper. The most radical paper in point 
of make-up recognizes standard styles of heads for such subjects, 
but the general rules already stated govern the writing of them. 

These rules may be conveniently classified as follows: 

Play up distinctive news features emphasized in the opening paragraphs 
of the story. Avoid beginning with A or The. 

Avoid negative statements. Strive for action by using active verbs and 
short, forceful nouns. 

Make every headline vivid, specific, accurate. 

Count spaces as well as letters, and see that the head fits before it goes 
to the typesetter. Each letter counts one unit, except 7, which is half a 
unit, and M and W, which are a unit and a half each. 

Avoid the use of the auxiliary verb be. Columbus burns is stronger 
than Columbus is burned. 


DISPLAYING THE NEWS 


259 


Avoid double quotes; single quotes economize space. 

Abbreviate as little as possible, and then only when the abbreviation is 
absolutely clear. 

For a news story write a news head; for a feature story write a fea¬ 
ture head. 

Don’t begin a headline with an infinitive. 

Don’t overload the line. Try for symmetry and typographical beauty. 

Don’t repeat a principal word in any of the divisions of a heading. 

Don’t divide a word or a hyphenated word at the end of the line. 

Avoid starting a headline with figures. 

Never make a damaging assertion not borne out by the facts contained 
in the story. Watch cheap slang and objectionable humor. 

Each bank of the heading should stand complete in itself, expressing 
a distinct thought. Avoid fanciful phrasing that results in obscurity. 

To prevent monotony avoid beginning decks with the same words or the 
same general cast of sentence structure. 

The importance of make-up. Make-up is a combination of the 
mechanical and the artistic. When headings and articles are in 
type, the task begins of arranging them properly for the page. 
This duty falls to the lot of the make-up man, who must combine 
typographical knowledge with a keen sense of news values. The 
conditions laid down are not of his making and cannot be changed. 
The size of a page is determined; the number of words that will 
go in a column, and the number of lines to a page, cannot be modi¬ 
fied. Within these limits, however, the make-up man is free to 
exercise as much inventive ability as the policy of the paper 
will permit. 

So far as the make-up man is concerned, a conservative paper 
is one which has the same general make-up every day, while 
the sensational paper is one which changes its make-up daily. Of 
the latter classes are Exhibits E, F, I, and J. The rest hold 
to the same general standards of display. 

No copy of a paper produced on such a day as the one under 
discussion is altogether fair, because under extreme provocation 
every paper adopts a sensational make-up. It is the daily prac¬ 
tice, in the absence of any remarkable news, that determines the 
class and character of the newspaper and governs its make-up. 

The sale of specified advertising space is another equation that 
affects the placing of the news. 


2 6o ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 

In examining the various exhibits note how emphasis is secured 
by separating stories carrying heavy black news heads and flank¬ 
ing them by smaller items set in lighter face or in italics. Such a 
practice gives contrast; layouts, boxes, and cartoons also lend 
attractiveness to make-up. 

To the make-up man, where direction of department editors is 
lacking, is usually left the question of deciding what items on the 


THE COMBINED NEW YORK MORNING NEWSPAPERS 



THE NEW YORK HERALD 
DAJ 1^JLNJEW S 

Sfljt jNeur jjfork Suited. 


@})£ 

$ftn - Uorfctr Staat? -J titung 

IL PROCRESSn ITALOAMEBICAKD 


VOL UCXXVm.—NO 23—DAILY_NEW VOKX. SATURDAY. SEPTEMBER 22, 1923_ rRIC .f .S™” 


STRESEMANN HOLDS 
TO 30 BILLION MARKS 
REPARATIONS FIGURE 

FOUR MEN HELD HERE 
IN CINCINNATI THEFT | 
OF$!00,000 IN BONDS; 

COOUDGE PROVES A PUZZLE 
TO THE MASTER LOBBYISTS 

RADIO FANS OF U.S. 
WILL RACE THE SUN 
ACROSS CONTINENT 

PUBLISHERS MAKE NEW 
CONTRACT; CHARTER 
OF STRIKERS REVOKED 

CHARGES WARD WAS 

IN BLACKMAIL PLOT 
AGAINST HIS FATHER 

la Preparing New- Offer 
Cano* Toul WfU Be 
Retained. 

IUI ftUHB rtOMISM 

Bon tort am end litmtilood 

Ul Plenard— lndsatr/ 

Peeorn Say* One Is Brother 
of Supreme Coart Jns- 
Uee McA»oy. 

ISiiiiSs 

To Try Relaying Message* 
to Pacific la Um Thtn 
Three Hour*. 

Hoars and Wages Rearranged and Working Condi¬ 
tions Improved Under Agreement Declared to 

Be Excellent by President Berry of International 

Complaint Made Out Am 
gust I. 1923. I* Sub¬ 
mitted by Defense. 

IS Ul TOMBS, FAILING BOND 

Rotor* A. FruU Jr. 11m 
Aeceend of B*mlrt*f 

Port of Loot. 


AT PAWN TO-MORROW 

Hundred Repetition* Prohibit, 
bot Open Spec** Me/ 

1 Fme Otoucla 

The PubUnhnrs AmocinUon luued the following *uu- 
mem last night anno undo* the term* of mtUemcnt of the 

“The owner* of New York city newi paper*. the Pr«d 
dent and Board of Director. of the International Pmiqn'i 
Union yesterday algned the contract which follow* 

"The a freemen! announce* the dlamluUon of the old 
local premmeo'* nalon and the /evocation of It* charter 
“The International Union eater* directly Into relation 

"The working hour* are reduced from 4* hour* day and 
nifhi to 41 hour* nifhc and «A hour* day 

of the redaction In hour*, there 1* Ukewle* a material In- 

—The other point* of rclationahlp ary to be settled by 
conciliation and (ailing that by arbttratmo. la Um event that 

8WQB.T TO ar DET&CTIvr 

Name* Roger, and L#wU«— 
Scheme Bated on BUyerts 
‘Immorality.* 



FRAT HOUSE PEN 
ROBBED ADMIRERS 

Admit* Gnad Urm; From 
Komm of Me* Mel o* 
MontineiMe Height*. 

DEMAND WOMAN PAY 
$200,000 BLACKMAIL 

Boeto* Sot lot? Undrr Maim* 
Wlnu Sto Befriended •• 
Head of Band. 

ipi 

WllliTi!! 


WHEN THE PRESSMEN WENT ON A STRIKE 1 


schedule are most important. By common consent these are always 
crowded on the first page. The greater the number of items, the 
livelier the paper becomes as a news medium. 

Headings put to the test. The philosophy of headings is built 
not upon theories, nor is it the outgrowth of visionary ideals. The 


iThis interesting journalistic phenomenon, a many-headed newspaper one fifth the 
normal size in number of pages, was issued for ten days by the metropolitan dailies 
forming the New York Publishers’ Association, following the breaking of their contract 
by 2000 web pressmen. The combined evening papers issued a similar publication. 
Each newspaper endeavored to print its own paper, but carried the title heads of all the 
members of the association. Buyers "distinguished the paper of their choice by the 
type and make-up instead of by name.” 

All sorts of makeshifts were resorted to for getting the news to the people. Grave 
business publications appeared with sporting extras on their first pages, and foreign- 
language papers were printed in English from local "squibs” to advertisements. New 





















DISPLAYING THE NEWS 


261 


modern headline is the development of actual experience, regis¬ 
tered in cashbooks and demonstrated by tangible results. Not 
all live newspapers now considered sensational were always so. 
Conservative journals have not always made money, nor, indeed, 
have sensational papers. It is reported that in Boston sensa¬ 
tional methods applied to a newspaper financially resulted in a 
loss of more than $3,000,000 before the tide turned, while the same 
experiment tried by the same man in San Francisco made a finan¬ 
cial success of a previously losing proposition. 

The test has been made, week by week, on the streets of many 
large cities, and it has been found that large and glaring headlines will 
sell more newspapers than the smaller and more conventional sort. 
In a city in Ohio where the experiment was tried alternate weeks 
it was found that large headlines resulted in an increase of from five 
hundred to five thousand in the street sales alone. This without any 
regard to the actual importance of the news under such headings. 

The class of persons to whom appeal is made has a great deal to 
do with determining the style of headings expedient to use. In a 
general way it may be said that flaming headlines are objection¬ 
able to people of culture and refinement. They are regarded as an 
insult to their intelligence. The original object was to attract 
the attention of the less cultured and less studious class of readers. 
In this way hundreds of thousands of Americans have become 
newspaper readers who, before the time of sensational headlining, 
read no newspapers at all. In fairness, serious opprobrium should 


York editions of Boston and Philadelphia papers were imported, but these were not 
popular. Although thousands of the combined issues were printed they could not satisfy 
the appetites of readers. 

Because of the necessity of reducing the size of the papers, editors had to exercise 
the best of news judgment in selecting material for print. Only indispensable news and 
features were given space, and it was interesting to observe what constituted, in the 
minds of the desk men, vital parts of the newspaper. All the papers, both morning and 
evening, omitted the editorials. Sporting and market pages were cut to one fourth of 
their usual bulk. General news was very much condensed, but the comic strips, the 
society section, and the "colyums” retained their accustomed niche. To quote from 
the Christian Science Monitor : "At the first sign of trouble to the journalistic craft, 
when she labors overladen in a tempestuous sea, it is the editorial page that is thrown 
overboard—jettisoned that Jeff and Mutt, Gasoline Alley, and Mrs. Jiggs may be 
saved for the edification of mankind! ” 

The crippling of business through the stoppage of advertising and the clamoring of 
news-hungry New York again strongly emphasize the significant place newspapers hold 
in the life of the people. 


262 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 


not attach to a practice which has served to bring the newspaper 
to the attention of those to whom it was before practically a closed 
source of intelligence. That there are certain objectionable reflex 
results is undoubtedly true, but their force is usually exaggerated. 

The great haste that prevails in the large American cities also 
gives excuse for the flaming headline. Where the custom of the 
average citizen used to be to buy one paper and to take it home 
and read it through, now his practice is to buy several, scan them 
on the car, and throw them away. The big headline enables the 
discriminating reader to tell at once whether or not he cares to 
follow the subject by reading the article beneath, and points out 
to the hurried man exactly where to find information for which he 
may be searching. 

There is no real danger that the conservative paper will go out 
of existence, any more than there is reason to suppose that people 
will cease to reason calmly and to reflect in quiet. The thinking 
man will always rely upon a conservative paper, in the form and 
contents of which his own intelligence is respected sufficiently to 
leave room for personal, selective choice in his reading. 


CHAPTER IX 


EDITORIALS AND REVIEWS 

SI 

INTERPRETING THE NEWS 

Changing attitudes on the editorial. A surprising difference of 
opinion exists among newspapermen relative to the place of the 
editorial in the newspaper. At the one pole stands the editor who 
points back to the palmy days of Greeley and Bennett, when 
the editorial was in the zenith of its power; at the other stands 
the editor of the new regime, who just as stanchly declares that the 
editorial page no longer wields wide influence and that its useful¬ 
ness is waning. 

Without arguing the merits of the case, it is patent to any ob¬ 
server that the long, erudite editorial of a generation ago is fast 
disappearing from the columns of most of the American dailies. 
As a type it was sometimes pompous, usually scholarly and in¬ 
formational, and in the hands of a master often did much to shape 
policies and opinions. Today it has lost to an extent these qualities 
and is less dogmatic in temper, shorter, and less weighty in content. 

It may well be asked, What has brought about this change? 
One answer is found in the ever-growing importance of the news¬ 
paper as a news-collecting agency. One keen observer puts it in 
this fashion: 

The real power of a newspaper today lies in its facilities for disseminat¬ 
ing news, for exposing corruption, for turning the light onto dark places, 
and for preventing wrongdoing by the mere fear of exposure which its 
existence makes sure. It is the news pages of a paper that men fear today, 
and it is the information contained in those pages that influences the world 
in basing its opinions and shaping its politics. 

Still another cogent reason for the change may be found in the 
fact that the newspapers of today have emerged into complex com- 

263 


264 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 


mercial enterprises which place great stress upon business success. 
It is common-sense policy that influential patrons and interests 
should be pleased, not antagonized; the counting-room must pay 
expenses, and circulation must be stimulated by progressive news 
exploitation. The great editor of the past published his personal 
convictions and courageously laid on the lash of popular opinion, 
content with a fair wage for his labors. The present-day editor 
is prone to ask, Will it pay the paper financially to take this 
position or to support this cause? 

Then, too, the older type of editorial was written by men who 
were not so persistently impelled by the mania of haste, but gave 
time to reflection and to careful interpretation of facts, basing 
their expression of opinion upon mature judgment. Correspond¬ 
ingly, the earlier reading public was more dependent upon the 
editorial columns for guidance than is the average newspaper 
reader of today, whose first requirement is for the news, not for 
the interpretation of events. He is able to think for himself. 
Those interested in extended editorial comment on current hap¬ 
penings go more frequently to magazines and periodicals where 
trained specialists in various fields are able to give a more author¬ 
itative exposition of important movements than the usual daily 
space writer should be expected to offer. 

To lament the passing of the editorial Jove of yesterday is to 
fail to appreciate the new forces that now express themselves on 
editorial pages. Instead of a one-man point of view now appears 
a composite opinion, fashioned in conference around the editorial 
table and representative of a more sane and intelligent attitude 
than the former practice was able to develop. The Tribune or the 
Times now speaks to its readers as an institution, shaping its utter¬ 
ances in clear, resolute terms untinged by the prejudices, animos¬ 
ities, or political lopsidedness of any individual. The same vitality 
of opinion may be found today in newspapers that consider inter¬ 
pretation and comment as essential as the printing of news. 

An editor and his profession. The editorial principles actuating 
the modern newspaper have been well expressed by Charles 
Ransom Miller, for forty years editor in chief of the New York 
Times, in a statement made to a committee of the United States 
Senate. He declared: 


EDITORIALS AND REVIEWS 


265 

Every newspaper that enjoys continuity of existence and management has 
a certain body of principles. They are called the policy of the paper. Those 
are the principles and beliefs that guide its expressions and opinions. The 
men who express those opinions are the editorial writers. . . . They are 
men. They wear neither halos nor horns. They form their opinions just as 
other men form their opinions, by observation and reflection and informa¬ 
tion. . . . But each paper has a body of principles that guide its utterances, 
and the men who write those principles believe them. Nobody in the 
Times office is ever asked to write what he does not believe. . . . 

We appear before the jury every day. We appear before the grand in¬ 
quisition, one of the largest courts in history; we are judged at the break¬ 
fast table. We feel that if we were improperly influenced by anybody 
outside of the office there is none so quick to discover that as the readers 
of the paper. 

The editorial page. For the purpose of meeting changing con¬ 
ditions every effort has been made to adapt the editorial page to 
the needs of present-day readers without destroying its power for 
directing public opinion. To this end exhaustive and lengthy edi¬ 
torial dissertations yield, first, to short, crisp paragraphs that give 
the editor’s comment in two hundred words; and second, to a more 
sane, less didactic, perhaps not less significant, type of editorial. 
Other features are added,—snappy squibs on life and manners, 
a budget of pleasantries, a bit of verse, short excerpts from other 
papers, a cartoon that gives the interpretation of the news in a 
twinkling, a readers’ forum, comment by the column conductor, 
a feature story,—all combining to lure the busy reader within the 
borders of the editorial keep. In this new guise the editorial page 
has developed a wide variety of interest. 

The aim of the editorial. Editorials and editorial paragraphs in 
newspapers of today are not exempt from the action of the general 
laws that govern news. They must be timely. They should be 
interesting. They ought to be authoritative in basic information 
and trustworthy in the expression of balanced judgment and in¬ 
telligent opinion. The editorial differs from news in that it usu¬ 
ally attempts to draw a conclusion from a given set of facts. 
Usually these facts are of current importance and recently have 
been developed in the paper’s own news columns. Less frequently 
a topic of general import—civic, ethical, or literary in character— 
is discussed. 


266 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 

Editorials and editorial paragraphs may be differentiated by 
standards of length and content. Paragraphs are very short, usu¬ 
ally breezy, comments upon something momentarily uppermost 
in the public mind. Two to five lines are sufficient. Humor is 
often a feature of them. The paragraph may be commendatory 
or caustic in thought; it should be clear and pointed in style, 
not ponderous. The topic of the editorial paragraph is distinc¬ 
tively more local, or else more peculiarly transient, than that of 
the editorial proper. It contains a single thought and no more; as, 

Five thousand families, it is said, have moved 
into tents in the country by way of protest 
against high city rents. By autumn some may 
be more than glad to get back to the dumb¬ 
waiter and the sometimes, equally dumb janitor. 

The editorial, called in England and some parts of the United 
States "leader,” expresses what is understood to be the paper’s 
views on all the leading subjects that engage the public mind; as, 
politics, religion, war, business, finance, education, philanthropy, 
or agriculture. A case in point follows: The reporter brings in 
the news item that the common council has appropriated $25,000 
for a municipal comfort station. That is news. The editorial 
takes the subject at this point and discusses whether the city can 
afford this outlay, whether the public work is needed or desired, 
and whether the sum provided is enough or too much. The ex¬ 
pression of judgment or opinion is therefore seen to be the final 
end of the editorial. By that judgment the paper must stand or 
fall, not alone in the public opinion to which it appeals for indorse¬ 
ment, but in the courts of the land where differences of all sorts 
are finally adjudicated. 

Often the editorial discusses the moral aspect of an event or 
utterance, in this educational field largely reflecting and, to a cer¬ 
tain extent, leading and energizing public opinion. 

The threefold division. In literary style and form of expression 
editorials differ according to the purpose to be subserved. A 
formal news editorial is held to consist of three parts: (1) the 
statement of truth, (2) its exposition, and (3) the deduction there^ 
from. An excellent example of this modern type of editorial, 
written with brevity, dignity, and a regard for truth, is the at- 




EDITORIALS AND REVIEWS 


267 

tached article from the broadside produced by students in edi¬ 
torial writing and policy in the Medill School of Journalism. 
Comment is added at the side of each paragraph to indicate the 
plan of development. 


1. This is a form of the "news 
peg” beginning. It gives the 
editorial contact with the local 
community and is timely. The 
thesis of the editorial is stated 
here, very early in the work, 
and will be held to rigidly to 
the end of it. 


2. This develops the thesis of 
the editorial, clarifies it, and 
shows its significance. 


3. This further develops the 
thesis of the editorial and adds, 
as a part of that development, 
supporting figures and facts. 


NEED FOR COST ACCOUNTING OF 
CRIME 

Alderman Lyle introduced in the city coun¬ 
cil a resolution asking that $50,000 be appro¬ 
priated "for a general investigation of the 
crime situation.” What Alderman Lyle had in 
mind when he wrote "investigation” is not 
known, but the money should be used to col¬ 
lect statistics on the cost of crime. 

The most reliable statistics on Chicago crime 
are those gathered by the crime commission, but 
even its experts are unable to say definitely how 
much the city is paying to support its criminals. 

The city keeps careful record of every penny 
of its income, as any corporation operated in 
accordance with business principles should. 
Likewise, as a good corporation, it keeps count 
of its outgo. Then, like nothing else on earth, 
it cheerfully ignores its losses. No man can 
say with certainty what Chicago’s actual cost 
of crime is, for no man knows. 

This is not because the city is uninterested. 
It is tremendously interested. Only the other 
day citizens held mass meetings and listened to 
facts until they were fighting mad about these 
very losses. But, lacking the accurate informa¬ 
tion that statistics can provide, they did not 
know where or what or how to fight, or whom. 
Chicago crime is not an octopus whose tentacles 
can be seen and severed. It is an unobtrusive 
leech, hidden in the murky waters of ignorance. 

Effective action is based on accurate infor¬ 
mation, a prerequisite whose lack has been a 
painful handicap to Chicago police. Even the 
records of stolen property, a comparatively 
simple matter, are so incomplete that recovered 
property in many instances cannot be returned 
to its owner. Police records of general crime 
are not only incomplete but are often con¬ 
fused. The Chicago crime commission found 
a precinct in which the captain failed to report 
to the central office 104 of the 141 crimes com¬ 
mitted in his precinct in the course of a month. 
With crime statistics in this hopeless condition, 




268 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 

effective prevention cannot be reasonably ex¬ 
pected. Those who undertake to fight crime 
are fighting in the dark. 

" The final test of the effectiveness of a police 
organization,” says an observer of American and 
European police systems, "is first, its success 
in acquiring accurate and complete informa¬ 
tion as to crime conditions in the commun¬ 
ity, and second, its ability to proceed against 
such conditions with the least delay and with 
all available forces.” The second test is de¬ 
pendent on the first, and Chicago cannot meet 
the first. The wonder is not why the police 
department is as ineffective as it is, but how it 
accomplishes as much as it does. Groping 
blindly, it may become fairly efficient at catch¬ 
ing criminals, but it will never enter the realm 
of crime prevention. 

Fifty thousand dollars is a drop in a pretty 
good sized bucket, but wisely expended it may 
at least provide Chicago an accurate account¬ 
ing of her losses. This is the first step in crime 
prevention. 

In the foregoing editorial it will be noticed that in no direct way 
does the personality of the writer obtrude itself. That he is a man 
of intellectual discernment, of judgment, of experience, and of 
dispassionate reasoning ability might be inferred from the subject 
matter and its treatment. Beyond that, nothing of the individual 
is apparent. The truth is stated at its value as truth: No attempt 
is made to give it added weight or importance by saying "I 
believe” or any similar expression. The opinion offered is dis¬ 
tinctly impersonal, impartial, unprejudiced, and non-proselyting. 

The editorial utterances of Greeley’s time, when politicians as¬ 
sailed each other in party organs, forcing home ugly truths with 
cutting epithets, has given way to a more courteous, less malev¬ 
olent type of writing. Narrow partisanship no longer commands 
its former following. The newspaper, however, continues to con¬ 
demn or to censure, but avoids making, in the heat of anger or of 
controversy, charges that cannot be substantiated by cold facts. 
Instead, it addresses an appeal to honest citizenship, to the sense 
of justice, to civic and national pride. 

Papers and editors. Conservative papers preserve the dignity 
and amplitude of their editorial departments. The tendency of 


4. This is a quotation added 
in support of the thesis. The 
quotation is then, as a reca¬ 
pitulation, applied to the local 
situation. 


5. This is the summarizing 
conclusion with a final emphasis 
or clincher at the end. 




EDITORIALS AND REVIEWS 269 

the radical and so-called yellow journals is to reduce it in size, to 
lighten it in weight, and at times to omit it altogether. 

A few papers of this class, however, go to the other extreme, 
printing editorials on the first page, perhaps on the last page in big 
type or colored ink, particularly when advocating some reform 
for which the paper has been active. Editorial writers of this 
class, while they may seem erratic, command the highest salary. 
The present owner of a group of newspapers in this country pays 
his chief editorial writer, who contributes to all the chain papers 
and usually has the same editorial in each of them, a salary in 
excess of $100,000 a year. So. far as known, this is the highest 
compensation received by a journalist who is not a newspaper 
proprietor. 

Classification of editorials. The classification of editorials is a 
relatively insignificant element in the editorial writer’s technique. 
He is aware of few distinctions in kind and form, and these are 
determined by the nature of the subject matter and by the ex¬ 
igencies of the time, his mood, and the paper’s policy. Two ques¬ 
tions occupy him in laying out his plan for the day’s editorials: 
What shall I write about ? How shall I write it ? There is usually 
a vague feeling in the office that there should be a light as well as 
a heavy editorial in each issue, a short as well as a long one, and a 
filler, or general-purpose editorial, as well as the two "position” 
editorials. But these ideas of classification are flexible. It com¬ 
prises about all the law that there is on the matter. 

The subject matter of editorials falls into two or three rough 
groups of which the writer may or may not be conscious in his 
work. First, there is government, in local, domestic, and foreign 
fields. This is subject matter which still takes leading position in 
most editorial pages. Local politics and national or foreign govern¬ 
mental affairs are given emphasis according to the constituency 
of the paper, the interests of the editor, or the demands of the time. 

Second is serious comment on the passing events of the day, hit 
or miss, as they pass through the busy writer’s experience. From 
the Einstein theory to the waywardness of flappers, all things in 
the stream of events are subject to his commentaries. In these, 
as in his political editorials, timeliness and local contact are usu¬ 
ally, but by no means always, essential. 


270 ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 

Third, perhaps, are the writer’s hobbies, his pet theories, which 
he trots out on otherwise unoccupied occasions. In these he usu¬ 
ally has some expert knowledge, be it birds of Illinois or battle¬ 
ships, and turns that knowledge into editorials of general interest 
to be used at any time or place. 

Fourth are his feature editorials, casual essays given more to 
vivid and colorful style than to matter, and concerned more in an 
artistic effect than in persuasion or exposition. These may be 
anything and everything, and they usually are just that in a 
lively paper. 

But to sum up, there is no working classification of editorials 
that amounts to anything in the actual process of production. An 
editorial is the combination of an individual writer, a newspaper 
policy, a subject for comment, a time, a locality, and various other 
components, all of which fluctuate to such an extent that formal 
classifications are impossible. 

Examples of readable editorials. The accompanying editorials, 
clipped from representative newspapers, are offered as specimens 
illustrative of the modern method of expressing opinion. They 
are on a diversity of subjects, but each is characterized by warm 
contact with news interest and by concrete, rapid-fire literary style. 

[ Chicago Tribune ] 

OUR SCHOOL PROBLEMS 

The lack of school accommodation's for the children of Chicago is not 
to be tolerated. This is not a matter on which there should be any com¬ 
promise. The community is not in a condition of destitution. The city 
is a great and rich community. It has a duty to its youth, a duty tran¬ 
scending any other duty except the maintenance of order, health, and 
safety. It is the duty to give proper instruction, under proper conditions. 

At this time the capacity of the schools is, according to estimate of at¬ 
tendance, 48,000 seats short. Out of 200 elementary schools 75 will have 
each at least one room in which the pupils will have to sit two in a seat. 
The conditions have been made public and need not be repeated here. 

We say they are not creditable to Chicago’s citizenship. They exist and 
for the time being the school trustees who found them when they took 
the job must do the best they can with them. But doubling up pupils, 
and staggering school hours, and renting halls, and whatever the school 
authorities contrive to make our insufficient plant do more than it was 
built for, is all in fact a rebuke and a reproach. No wise citizen can be 


EDITORIALS AND REVIEWS 


271 


proud of a city that does not make generous provision for the education 
of its young. Our minimum should be a seat for every child, in a well 
ventilated, well heated, well lighted, cheerful school; competent teachers, 
neither overworked nor underpaid; adequate equipment and instruction 
for mind and body. 

Chicago can afford all of that. Chicago cannot afford to have less than 
that. It costs money. It means taxation. But to neglect the child costs 
money and more than all our money could compensate us for, if we 
lose it, for what we lose will be America’s future. To neglect the child 
is to lose the man, and all we possess of good depends upon the quality of 
our men and women. 

This is truism, but we are ignoring it in this city. The condition of our 
schools, physically and educationally, is the most important of our civic 
problems. 

[ Detroit News ] 

HENRY PECK, HIS CLUB 

A meager line or two, struggling feebly against the current of larger 
news, just manages to reach these shores chronicling the annual banquet 
of the Henpecked Club of Boulderclough in Yorkshire, England. 

It is an institution of many traditions, long-lived and so popular that 
the club frankly confesses it has an embarrassing waiting list. There never 
was built, suggests the committee, a dining room or auditorium adequate to 
seat all who crave affiliation with the organization. 

The oath of membership embodies a cheerful admission that the wife 
is the strong personality in the candidate’s household. Thus, linked by the 
common bond of complacent subjection, the members mingle their in¬ 
feriority one with another in a self-commiserating banquet once a year— 
by kind permission of the authorities. 

It is curious what ties do bind groups of the human race in temporary 
fellowship and accord. One imagines the grim laugh with which the head 
of the household watches the happy husband toddle off for his jaunty 
evening of emancipation; the spring in his step, the reawakened gleam in 
his eye. One imagines, too, the gloomy revelations of that remarkable 
banquet-table. Then, too, one suspects that on the way home his step lags 
and thoughts trouble his mind; perhaps he asks himself why it is that 
things are so ; wherein lies his defeat and by what lack of fibre he has 
yielded the precious heritage of leadership—a leadership legally empha¬ 
sized in Britain where a husband may, and occasionally does, beat his wife 
in the privacy of the home which, as the world knows, is an English¬ 
man’s castle. 

There is an answer to his musings. The answer is found in the existence 
of the Henpecked Club and his own membership therein. He is that 
sort of man. 


272 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 

[Boston Evening Transcript ] 

“ LES JEUNES” 

Sir James M. Barrie has lately been urging the organization of a League 
of Youth. Undoubtedly Sir James, who was born in i860, is the very 
man for the leadership of such a league, if he can but get it going. There 
is no time in a man’s life when he feels the spirit of youth singing in his 
soul so powerfully as the period when he is about sixty years old. At that 
epoch, being particularly anxious to avoid the appearance of old age, he is 
jealous of age’s privileges and attributes, and is strongly inclined to asso¬ 
ciate himself with the joys and aspirations of youth. Who, in the mean¬ 
time, is the decadent, the scorner, the weary-hearted pessimist, to whom 
the world is in its sere and yellow leaf? He is the man from twenty to 
thirty. Never had the world so sad a group of intellectual dotards as the 
Oscar Wildes and Aubrey Beardsleys of the last years of the nineteenth 
century. These young men were, in sentiment, the oldest men alive. 
Their fin de siecle lucubrations represented the decrepitude, the crass and 
tottering octogenarianism of the modern intellect. The propaganda of de¬ 
cadence at the present moment is in the hands of "les jeunes.” 

It is possible, therefore, that Sir James M. Barrie could do no better thing 
than devote his sixth decade to the formation and stimulation of a League 
of Youth which, in the hands of sexagenarians as full of youthful vitality 
as himself, might hope to counteract the growing senility of the younger 
generation. All truly young persons, whatever their years may be, will 
wish him well in his attempt. Restore our languid world, Sir James, to its 
spring-time vigor! It was Disraeli, we believe, who said that everything 
great that ever has been done was done by youth, and it is true, whether 
the youth who accomplished it were seventeen or seventy. 


[ Memphis Co 7 nmerctal Appeal ] 

LIQUOR, JAZZ AND THE INDIAN 

Lamenting the fact that his race is fast dying out, a full-blooded Sioux 
Indian chief, Buffalo Bear, says that liquor, jazz and inclination to imitate 
the vices of the present-day American have been detrimental. 

That liquor and the white man’s vices have played havoc with the 
Indians is obvious, and has been for many years. However, the effect 
on the red man has been no more deleterious than on the pale face. That 
is why the manufacture and sale of intoxicants was put under the ban. A 
drunken white man is neither safer nor better than a drunken Indian; 
either is a recognized menace. The moral, mental and physical effect is 
the same, regardless of race or previous condition. 

Neither has the imitator of the white man’s vices suffered because of 
them any more than has the originator. The use of intoxicants is but one 


EDITORIALS AND REVIEWS 


2 73 

of these vices. Gambling is almost as bad. The tendency of both was 
to drag down ; there was never a time when advocates of either could claim 
that they were constructive. 

Long before passage of the eighteenth amendment it was unlawful to sell 
liquor to the Indians. That was a wise provision, but this prohibition itself 
proved that we were not all-wise. We labored under the delusion that 
while liquor was bad for the aborigines, it was good for us. As the years 
went by it dawned on us that we couldn’t handle our liquor any better than 
could the red man handle his. It made bad Indians out of both of us. 

A thirst for liquor and a mania for gambling not only dragged down the 
addict; it brought untold humiliation and suffering to the innocent. The 
evils, in many instances, were but forerunners of robbery and murder. 
Therefore, ascertaining that in nurturing these vices, we were neither 
stronger nor more discriminating than our government charges, we made 
the "thou shalt not” apply to men of every race in America. 

In the matter of jazz, however, if we are honest with ourselves, we must 
confess that we have reverted to the primitive. Chief Buffalo Bear should 
not brand us with responsibility for this jargon. We are told that it 
originated among the negroes. Maybe that is true, but it brings to mind 
the tom-tom and the war dance of the Indians. Regardless of who is re¬ 
sponsible for it, we are inclined to believe that it was inspired by the 
antics of the red man and worked out as a proper accompaniment to the 
war whoop of the brave as he pranced in feathers and paint. 

But, regardless of its origin, we can assure the chief that the sufferings 
caused by it are not more acute among the members of his tribe than 
among the residents of cities in this era of civilization. There was a time 
when we might hear in our homes or in auditoriums the strains of a waltz 
or a march; but, alas, today even the records of the phonograph are jazz, 
jazz, jazz. 

Whether we inflicted jazz on the red man or the red man inflicted it on 
us, is all the same; it is here, and both of us suffer. 

[ New York Evening Post] 

LITERATURE, ROBUST AND ORNATE 

Oliver Elton remarks at the end of his four-volume history of modern 
English literature that a definitive reaction appears under way against the 
burnished and jewelled writing which came in with the fin-de-siecle move¬ 
ment. A robuster taste is developing. Readers are growing weary of the 
epigrammatic elegance of Wilde, the filigreed phrases of Pater, the 100 
per cent felicity of Stevenson’s adjectives. 

Prof. Elton’s statement might not be applauded by many who admire 
the styles of Conrad and the minor Conradians, of authors like W. H. 
Hudson and Arthur Symons, and of a number of younger men who write 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 


274 

criticism all the time and travels or essays part of the time. But there is 
much evidence that Mr. Elton is right. In the life of nearly every book- 
loving young man there is a period when he thinks that the greatest of all 
pursuits is of the mot juste, that there is no triumph like expressing the 
fluttering of a leaf or whinny of a horse in a phrase more precise and 
imaginative than others have used. Such young men alone will always 
furnish an army to defend the virtues of Stevenson’s style. But the great 
body of readers must in the long run prefer the prose in which the work¬ 
manship is broader and less elaborately elegant. 

This is in part because the great body of modern readers must be rapid 
readers; particularly if they read with gusto. A style which presents fine 
mass effects, as Carlyle’s or Ruskin’s does, is for them superior to a style 
in which every ten words an expression demands, "Stop and admire me ! ” 
and in which every paragraph asks to be rolled under the tongue. Cultured 
men with infinite leisure like to progress from sentence to sentence in 
"Marius the Epicurean” ; the great mass of us like to bowl rapidly through 
"Praeterita” or Carlyle’s "French Revolution.” In part also the reaction 
arises from a feeling that the precious school slights substance in favor of 
form. Of more than one modern novelist it has been said that when his 
themes are true and his imagination active, then his style is admirably di¬ 
rect ; in proportion as he uses bogus themes and his story fails to march, 
he resorts to rich embroideries of language. When our travel writer 
lavishes his preciosities upon the description of tree shadows, it may be 
because he has naught else to say. Thoreau did not spend hours over the 
single adjective. His mind was too full of ideas, his eye too full of ob¬ 
served facts. 

No reaction against the highly studied style need carry writers into 
slovenliness. It would be a great misfortune if it encouraged our too many 
careless American authors to become more careless still. Nor need the 
finest qualities of style, felicity, glow, eloquence be sacrificed. The old 
masters—Macaulay, Hazlitt, Carlyle, Thackeray—who wrote with full- 
charged minds and fast-moving pens, simply wrought their stylistic effects 
in the large, not in miniature. 

[New York Evening Post ] 

WEEKS AND DAYS 

By Simeon Strunsky 

In the matter of Physical Culture Week and Music Week, coming so 
soon after Thrift Week and Clean-Up Week, it was my visitor’s contention 
that the basic idea was all wrong. He said what we needed was just the 
other thing: a Physical Neglect Week, and a Jazz Week, and an Orgy-of- 
Spending Week, and a week for throwing matches all over the carpet. With 
regard to the last, my visitor seemed already to be putting his principles 


EDITORIALS AND REVIEWS 


275 

into practice. I had to point out to him that throwing cigarette stumps into 
the waste-basket was not the safest thing on earth. 

"It is very simple,” he said, fishing the cigarette stump out of the 
basket and throwing it on the floor. "There is danger in setting aside a 
limited seven days for the performance of duties which the normal civilized 
man is in the habit of practicing all the year round. It might popularize 
the idea that civilization is something to be pursued by special appoint¬ 
ment, like dentistry. The thing we need, of course, is not special Weeks 
for injecting special virtues into a man, but special Weeks for getting 
special vices out of his system.” 

The suggestion had its appeal and I said so. 

"That is what I mean by a Jazz Week,” he said. "It would be a week 
in which every vocalist, and every piano, pianola, and victrola owner would 
be encouraged to do his worst. In that week it is very likely that strong 
men would go mad and nursing infants might go into convulsions; but the 
other fifty-one weeks in the year we would have Bach, Beethoven, and 
peace.” He invited me to consider the Roman Empire and fishing. 

I did my best to comply. I thought of Julius Caesar and of the Never- 
sink River up in Sullivan County, but could not quite see the connection. 

"What is it,” he said, "that makes men restless in spring with the 
thought of Maine and the Canadian border? It isn’t the fish which they 
so seldom catch, but the opportunity to don an old sweater and a disrep¬ 
utable pair of pants and to go without shaving for a week. For the 
promotion of civilized dress an Old-Sweater-and-Khaki-Pants Week is in¬ 
finitely more valuable than a Brush-Your-Clothes Week. It gets out of 
the soul the longing for old sweaters and khaki pants which is a survival 
from the Neanderthal Man.” (I thought his history was not 100 per cent 
accurate, but let it go.) "I might put it more scientifically still. I might 
say that Fishing Week is a way of getting rid of the Sweater-Pants-Bristle 
Complex. And so with the Roman Empire.” 

Again I tried to think of Marcus Tullius Cicero with a two weeks’ beard, 
and couldn’t make it. 

"The Romans, being an eminently practical people,” he said, "knew 
the value of purging the system of accumulated anti-social vices. That 
is why they had Saturnalia Week. It was a week when everybody was 
encouraged to go wild. Slaves were invited to neglect their duties, to visit 
the wine cellar, and to talk back to the master of the house. It was a riot 
while it lasted. But at 12 o’clock midnight on Sunday, or whatever the 
day was, the normal life came in again. The slave went back refreshed 
to the grist-mill and the laundry and his master went back to collecting 
taxes from the rest of the world.” 

For that matter, it occurred to my visitor that this was the secret of 
the modern successors of the Romans in the business of successful empire 
building. He referred to the English breakfast. The British, with their 


276 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 


extraordinary knowledge of human nature, long ago recognized that when 
a man gets up in the morning he feels mean. Did they allow that early 
morning poison to fester and infect the whole day ? They did not. They 
provided in Magna Charta that no one may approach an Englishman over 
his kippers and tea without getting his or her head chewed off. The Eng¬ 
lish have been patient with their Government for a couple of thousand 
years because they spend a half an hour every morning taking it out of 
the marmalade. 

"But perhaps I bore you?” he said. 

Yielding somewhat to the Saturnalia spirit, I replied that if he didn’t 
bore me some other visitor probably would, so it didn’t matter. 

"The idea is simple,” he said. "Most men normally keep their back¬ 
yards clean, and it is only now and then that the doubt arises in their 
souls whether the eternal fight against garbage is really worth while. Very 
well; let them have a Garbage-Up-to-the-Neck Week and see how they 
like it. Most men are normally fond of their old mothers and like to hear 
from them occasionally. It is only at rare intervals that they get fed up 
with the Oldest Generation. Very well; let them have a Beat-Your- 
Mother Week; perhaps for the rest of the year they’ll manage to find 
time to write to the old lady now and then. Most people normally look 
after their children’s health, clothes, and schooling; it is only at intervals 
that the young are felt to be in the way. Very well; let there be a week 
for parents to live their own life, while the children are encouraged to fall 
down stairs and play hookey from school. It will stimulate the work of 
the Parents’ Associations for the other fifty-one weeks. For the promotion 
of the duty of parenthood there is much more to be expected from a 
Ragamuffin and Neglected Adenoid Week than from a Sock-Darning Week.” 

He was quite carried away by his idea. He foresaw a Composite Satur¬ 
nalia Week in which citizens would be encouraged to make a good job of 
it: litter up their backyards; beat their mothers; neglect to add up their 
checkbooks; forget to bank the furnace; refuse to smile; refuse to get 
acquainted with their neighbors; lay in stocks of unnecessary neckwear; 
put the children’s tooth-brushes where they can’t be found; devote a 
couple of hours to all the Blues on the record market, and in every other 
way treat themselves to one gorgeous catharsis. 

Yes, my visitor foresaw a Saturnalia Week with a parade and prizes 
for the most disreputable exhibits. There would be a prize for the float 
showing the largest accumulation of unanswered letters, and for the float 
showing a carpet with the heaviest deposit of cigarette ashes, and for the 
float showing the greatest number of school children having the lowest 
class marks and the largest-sized nut sundaes before going to bed, and 
for the float showing a citizen making out his Federal Income Tax blank 
on the afternoon of March 16, and for the float showing the oldest citizen 
who never took exercise and slept with all the windows closed. 


EDITORIALS AND REVIEWS 


277 


There was no restraining my visitor. He saw his great idea applied to 
politics and international affairs with extraordinary results. He foresaw a 
Fordney Week, when Congressmen would be encouraged to get every 
lunatic tariff schedule out of their systems. He foresaw a Knock-the 
French Week in which the World could get everything off its chest (in a 
special forty-eight-page edition if necessary), and so get into the mood to 
interpret Genoa a little more calmly. He foresaw a Ruble Issue Week at 
Moscow, when they would use up all the zeros in the arithmetic and stop. 

He foresaw a Hylan Week in which Mayor Hylan-But no, he said; he 

didn’t want to press the point too far. 


[ Chicago Daily News ] 

FERTILE KANSAS 

Secondary only to the wheat crop are the editors of Kansas. Editors in 
past and present tenses, in the senate, in the governor’s mansion, quarrel¬ 
ling hilariously over the Industrial court or the virtue of fruit salad, motor¬ 
ing down the dusty route of the Santa Fe trail in brief incursions into the 
politics of the next county, bullying the wets and the patent immoralities 
of man with the vigor of a terrier shaking a rat, writing human interest 
stories and best sellers—the editors are the spiritual cement of Kansas. 
It is a land in which the public is still articulate. "I hear Kansas singing,” 
wrote the Emporia bard, Walt Mason. It was a chorus that he heard. 

Accessory to the editors of Kansas are the convex prairie fields, bulging 
with a full crop, pastures that graze blooded cattle and gentle basins under 
the cottonwoods where in August some sluggard river lies. On the prairie 
of eastern Kansas from Wichita to Atchison, from Parsons to Topeka, are 
corn, wheat, live stock, the long summer sun and the hot winds, the editors, 
the orators, the school teachers, the clattering motor cars, and then corn, 
wheat and live stock again in slow summer cycles. It is the sunlit summer 
of production that is Kansas. In winter, there is hiatus. 

Already the fading soils have forced the farmer into skillfulness. Crop 
rotation and the culture of legumes—dark green patches of alfalfa in 
carefully inoculated soils—manuring and the like feed to the Kansas loams 
again the nitrogenous foods that unvaried cropping had taken away. Na¬ 
ture has invested deeply in the Kansas farmer, and he repays well. He has 
exploited the soil. He has mined its fertility to the safe limit. Now the 
great colleges of agriculture thunder, "Diversification, rotation, fertiliza¬ 
tion,” and the farmer willingly responds. 

The rigid little Kansas towns, waffle patterned, sit firmly there between 
the old and the new. They punctuate the end of the East, and capitalize 
the beginning of the West. They are the southern edge of the north and 
the northern edge of the South. The plexus of America is Kansas, the 
margins of American cultures. These tight villages are the remaining 


278 ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 

bulwark of puritanism. They are the refuge of the individualistic democ¬ 
racy that was America until recent decades. " Man to man,” without that 
incipient authority of force of the far West or that authority of organiza¬ 
tion of the East, is the Kansas anthem. And as man to man in their 
homogeneous American society their editors persuade fellow townsmen 
into new futures. Kansas is the land of the small town. 

On those slow rolling prairies the bald heads of the editors are salient 
features of the topography. There are Victor Murdock, Will White, Henry 
Allen, Arthur Capper, Ed Howe, Homer Hoch—many editors. 


[New York Globe ] 

THE MORALS OF HISTORY 

The committee of teachers which has been applying the touchstone to 
textbooks appears to be somewhat vague concerning the-boundaries sep¬ 
arating religion and ethics from history. In effect they suggest that the por¬ 
trait painters of history should ignore the wart on Cromwell’s nose. John 
Hancock may have been a smuggler, they are willing to concede, but that 
unpleasant fact, they insist, ought not to be obtruded upon the attention 
of school children. Their reason for opposing realistic accounts of national 
figures is the assumed necessity "to present the ethical and moral prin¬ 
ciples exemplified in the lives of American patriotic leaders.” 

The world has heard much of vital lies during the last few years, but not 
enough to convince the sober judgment that even an encouraging lie is 
better than the grim truth. Yet that is the fallacy into which patriotism has 
led the textbook committee. If the harsh facts in the lives of great men 
disturb the moral lessons designed for the young it is intimated that some¬ 
thing less than the whole truth should be imparted. Cromwell had better 
judgment. When nature implants a wart upon the face of the hero, honest 
art and honest history should know it. There is no alternative to truth, 
and the child taught to recognize the good and the bad, the weakness and 
the strength, to be found'in the finest of men, is better educated than the 
poor dupe nourished on heroic dreams. 

The case of Germany proved this all too tragically. German children 
were long taught a grandiose version of the history of their fatherland. 
Year after year the minds of the young were distorted until in the fulness 
of time inflated public opinion was willing to sustain the crazy schemes of 
the Prussian militarists. The resultant poverty and degradation of the 
German millions ought to suffice to reveal the folly of an educational sys¬ 
tem bulwarked by patriotic misstatements and omissions. Nations as well 
as individuals can afford to be humbly truthful, while religion and ethics 
may be relied upon to instruct the American youth in virtue without the 
deceitful aid of false or perverted history. 


EDITORIALS AND REVIEWS 


279 


[ Christian Science Monitor ] 

THE DAY OF CLEAN JOURNALISM 

At the time of the last annual meeting of the Associated Press in New 
York, there was organized an Association of Editorial Executives composed 
of editors, managing editors and city editors of newspapers published in 
cities of over* 100,000 inhabitants. The purpose of the organization, as 
disclosed by the discussion which attended its formation, and as further 
set forth in its constitution and by-laws is to elevate the standard of jour¬ 
nalism as a profession, and particularly to advance the cause of "clean 
journalism.” 

The two purposes are, of course, interlocking. Journalism as a pro¬ 
fession cannot be made honorable to those who pursue it, or attractive to 
those who contemplate its adoption as a life career, until it is purged of 
its present errors of rashness and sensationalism. So far as it is untrust¬ 
worthy the fault commonly grows out of rashness. Few journalists of any 
standing are guilty of wilful misstatement, or the wanton falsification of 
the news. But most are ready "to take a chance,” hoping that what they 
are printing as fact may turn out to be something like truth. The mad rush 
to get news in at the last moment, and "be first on the street” is respon¬ 
sible for much newspaper inaccuracy. When even annual encyclopedias 
and year books find it necessary to publish lists of "errata,” a newspaper, 
rushed to press three or four times in a day may be pardoned if it 
lacks infallibility. 

The matter of sensationalism is not to be so lightly treated. It is the 
crying evil of the daily press—not in the United States alone—and it is 
a growing evil. The great material success, if success be measured by 
circulation, attained by certain of the more sensational newspapers of the 
day has led to scandalous deterioration in newspaper standards. There 
is a sort of Gresham’s law operative in journalism, so that we find when a 
paper of the lewd and baser sort is started in a community the older and 
more reputable sheets are more apt to be dragged down to its level, than it 
is to be raised to theirs. Perhaps the new Association of Executives may 
help to guard against this progressive process of deterioration. 

It used to be thought that the increase of sensationalism in newspapers, 
in the United States at least, was due to the inroads of commercialism. It 
has been asserted that as the influence of the business office increased 
editorial standards were lowered. This theory suffers from the fact that 
the advertising pages of the daily press have improved in ethical quality 
quite as much as their editorial and news columns have deteriorated. Gone 
are the black, smudgy advertisements of patent nostrums, with lists of 
symptoms shrewdly calculated to impress the idea of desperate ailments 
upon the human mind. Vanished are lottery "ads,” "get-rich-quick” 
promises, and the announcement of fraudulent or wildly speculative proj- 


2 So 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 


ects. The rigid editing which too often seems lacking in the news columns 
shows its results on the advertising pages of every American newspaper 
which aspires to high and honorable standing. 

It seems worth while to inquire into this- phenomenon. Why is it that 
advertising has come to be carefully selected, artistically composed, and 
the pages on which it is displayed skillfully made up just in proportion as, 
in the same papers, the news is unimportant or vicious, set forth under 
glaring and often incorrect headlines, and thrust into the page with no 
apparent plan except to furnish a setting for the advertisements? News¬ 
papers pay, and pay heavily, for the news they treat thus contemptuously. 
Is it because they get paid for their advertising that they take more pains 
in its treatment? 

Every publisher knows, and if he’s fit for his job regrets, that the clean¬ 
ing up of newspaper advertising began outside the newspaper offices. It 
derived its greatest impetus from the advertising agencies which compete 
actively in suggesting better and more attractive copy to advertisers, and 
in devising plans to make the finished product effective. The advertiser 
of a legitimate investment had no desire to appear cheek-by-jowl with a 
"io-per-cent-a-month” swindler; the purveyor of high-class dress goods 
was revolted at the proposition that his announcement should appear ad¬ 
joining one which no modest woman could read without disgust and shame. 
And so the pressure of the advertisers, exerted mainly for selfish and even 
mercenary purposes, has resulted in the steady improvement of advertising 
pages, typographically and from the viewpoint of honesty and good taste. 

Now who is to undertake the corresponding reform of the news col¬ 
umns? Newspaper readers are as multitudinous as the sands of the sea, 
and as little capable of united action. Advertisers, operating through their 
agencies, are in effect organized, but no such machinery for concerted 
action is possessed by the readers. A subscriber may be loath to have his 
family supplied with all the details of the latest vile scandal, but his indi¬ 
vidual protest carries little weight. In most cities if he adopts the only 
defense open to him, that of dropping the paper, he has no other paper of 
better character to turn to. Commonly he shrugs his shoulders, wishes 
"somebody would start a decent paper,” and lets it go at that. 

Perhaps the newly-organized editorial association may help to correct 
this situation. Perhaps, too, in time, advertisers will see that circulation 
based on records of crime, scandal and appeals to baser minds is not the 
most useful from an advertising viewpoint. Some who have refused to 
place their announcements next to a revolting patent medicine "ad” may 
see equal disadvantage in having the latest " movie ” indecency for a neigh¬ 
bor. Possibly in that way the cleaning up of the news columns may come. 
But, whatever the method, it is certainly coming, and those newspapers 
which are uniting with The Christian Science Monitor in the effort to speed 
the day of clean journalism need have no doubt of ultimate success. 


EDITORIALS AND REVIEWS 


281 


TO AN ANXIOUS FRIEND 1 

You tell me that law is above freedom of utterance. And I reply that 
you can have no wise laws nor free enforcement of wise laws unless there 
is free expression of the wisdom of the people—and, alas, their folly with 
it. But if there is freedom, folly will die of its own poison, and the wisdom 
will survive. That is the history of the race. It is the proof of man’s kin¬ 
ship with God. You say that freedom of utterance is not for time of stress, 
and I reply with the sad truth that only in time of stress is freedom of 
utterance in danger. No one questions it in calm days, because it is not 
needed. And the reverse is true also; only when free utterance is sup¬ 
pressed is it needed, and when it is needed, it is most vital to justice. Peace 
is good. But if you are interested in peace through force and without free 
discussion, that is to say, free utterance decently and in order—your 
interest in justice is slight. And peace without justice is tyranny, no 
matter how you may sugar-coat it with expediency. This state today is in 
more danger from suppression than from violence, because in the end, 
suppression leads to violence. Violence, indeed, is the child of suppression. 
Whoever pleads for justice helps to keep the peace ; and whoever tramples 
upon the plea for justice, temperately made in the name of peace, only 
outrages peace and kills something fine in the heart of man which God put 
there when we got our manhood. When that is killed, brute meets brute 
on each side of the line. 

So, dear friend, put fear out of your heart. This nation will survive, 
this state will prosper, the orderly business of life will go forward if only 
men can speak in whatever way given them to utter what their hearts 
hold—by voice, by posted card, by letter or by press. Reason never has 
failed men. Only force and repression have made the wrecks in the world. 


§2 

CRITICIZING PLAYS AND BOOKS 

Criticism, reporting, editorial writing. On the border line be¬ 
tween reporting and editorial writing is the field of dramatic criti¬ 
cism and its allied branches, musical and art criticism, and book 
reviewing. Related to reporting in that it consists of a proper 
chronicling of an event that has all the qualities of significant 
news, this department is allied to the editorial in that there is an 
expression of personal opinion, which, when in print, becomes the 

iThis editorial won the Pulitzer prize for the strongest editorial produced in 1922. It 
was written by William Allen White during his controversy over free speech with Gover¬ 
nor Henry Allen. The editorial was printed in the Emporia Gazette, July 27, 1922. 


282 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 

avowed opinion of the newspaper publishing it. The matter of 
personality cannot, indeed, should not, be eliminated, and tech¬ 
nical criticism may become as pronounced and characteristic as 
the most individual editorial column. 

The field of dramatic criticism is one which, for a variety of 
reasons that need not here be enumerated, is often opened to the 
young student entering a newspaper career. Previous training in 
reporting will be found a valuable equipment, as will also an inti¬ 
mate acquaintance with both classical and present-day drama. 
The amount of such schooling which the beginner will be expected 
to possess will vary with the newspaper and the size of the com¬ 
munity in which it is situated. In the large centers editors are in¬ 
tolerant of ignorance or dullness. In the smaller communities 
more lenient standards will be found to exist. 

Criticism is reporting in the sense that the writer must describe 
what he sees. He is called upon, also, to relate something of the 
story of the play. The work goes farther, however, because it 
requires, in its better forms, an analysis of how well the play¬ 
wright and producer have performed their task. In a sense the 
critic mediates between the performance and his readers in much 
the same way that an actor mediates between author and au¬ 
dience. In essence criticism is self-analysis; it is subjective rather 
than objective. The critic must continually ask: Is it faithful 
to life? Is it good? Is it right? Is it interesting? These mental 
processes become intuitive, but the critic must always know the 
why of the impression he takes from the theater. 

The function of criticism. The average theatergoer leaves the 
play or the concert with no other sensation than that he did or 
did not enjoy himself. Such a net result of an evening is not 
sufficient for the writing of a critical review. Not only must the 
critic feel sure that the production was or was not good, but he 
must have a reason for the faith that is in him. As he progresses 
in his work he will conceive of himself as a sounding-board, on 
which all impressions are made distinct, or as a set of test tubes 
wherein experiments are to be conducted in discovering the con¬ 
tent of an " unknown.” As a rule he will find it safe to accept 
every production in the spirit in which it is offered. It is in bad 
taste to treat frivolously an honest effort to play Shakespeare, 


EDITORIALS AND REVIEWS 283 

and it is foolish to treat seriously a musical production which has 
no purpose but to arouse laughter. 

Whereas, in reporting, stress is laid on compilation of facts, in 
criticism emphasis is placed upon impressions. Whether or not 
any performance—musical, dramatic, or otherwise—is good or 
bad is not a matter of scientific demonstration and can be de¬ 
termined only relatively. All manifestations of art—whether the 
production be a motion picture or an aria from grand opera—are 
designed to quicken the imagination and awaken the emotions. 
In proportion as the critic identifies himself with the illusion of 
make-believe and translates that feeling to his readers will he be 
successful in his work. Ashton Stevens, dramatic critic of the 
Chicago Herald-Examiner , sums it up in a neat epigram: 

I’ve found that my spinal column is the best dramatic critic in my 
family. When it thrills, when it jiggles, I ask no further proof. Something 
good has happened in the theater. 

As the child learns blocks before he learns letters, so the begin¬ 
ner in the field of criticism will deal first with the obvious and the 
concrete. So long, however, as these continue to be the bulk of his 
mental processes his work will be merely reporting, not criticism. 
It will not be even good reporting, because it will fail to take into 
account the reason that impels people to go to a play, a "movie,” 
or a concert; namely, a release of the emotions, a vicarious sharing 
of the experiences of the actors caught in a dramatic situation. 

A critic’s ability to judge accurately any interpretation must be 
based largely on knowledge of the thing interpreted, and it is safe 
to say that no one man has so universal a knowledge of life as the 
entire drama of the world reflects. On the other hand, the actor is 
only a medium through which the author’s idea can be portrayed, 
and this medium may be so faulty that the youngest critic will 
perceive its lack of truth. 

The critic must stand or fall by the attitude the public takes 
toward his work. No avenue of newspaper work calls for more 
distinctive individuality or permits a better display of this invalu¬ 
able asset. 

The reading public is reasonably constant. It is shrewd and 
appreciates sincerity. Sham and pretense have but a fleeting hour 


284 ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 

and, in the end, are powerless. Therefore truth, honesty, and 
candor are the habits of writing which the critic must cultivate. 
Courage is also necessary. Courage is always admired, but it is 
undoubtedly true that a writer can more readily acquire a follow¬ 
ing by wholesale denunciation than by wholesale praise. Only the 
truth is safe, and that will often call for all the courage that a 
young writer possesses. Sometimes he must fly in the face of 
popular favor or disapproval. 

To the real critic no other field of newspaper work is half so 
inviting. He lives in a world of inspiration. He touches elbows 
with the keen, intelligent men of the day. He thinks about and 
analyzes all the thoughts and emotions that animate the soul. 
Nothing that is human is foreign to him. It is easy to write well 
because almost every performance is alive with suggestions and 
potent with ideas which kindle the fancy and fire the ambition. 

Qualities of a good review. The critic must always remember, 
however, that it is incumbent upon him to write readable matter; 
in an effort to be just and competent he must avoid a tendency 
to prolixity. In a fever of rhetoric he must not soar above the 
matter he has to handle. In an ambition to do fine writing he 
should not permit himself to become either ponderous or mystical. 

In viewing a performance the critic must consider, first, the pro¬ 
duction as a whole; second, its effect upon himself and upon others 
about him. He must not forget that every production is the re¬ 
sult of a threefold mental activity; he must judge each of these 
elements in detail and then come to a conclusion on the total re¬ 
sult. Each play embodies the thought and effort of an author, 
extending over a period of months. Next, it is produced by a 
manager and represents his thought and study, together with his 
idea of scenic effects—activities which have taken weeks, if not 
months, for perfecting in a unified production. Finally, it is being 
acted by men and women who have spent weeks in the effort to 
visualize and spiritualize the creations of the author. 

The questions which then present themselves for answer are: 
Is the theme convincing and original ? Is the dialogue brisk and 
realistic? Is that character true to life? Does the author con¬ 
ceive it correctly ? If correctly conceived, does the actor portray 
it correctly? And if correctly conceived and portrayed, as it re- 


EDITORIALS AND REVIEWS 


285 

lates to its fellows, does the action move smoothly ? Are all the de¬ 
tails that go to make up stage management properly carried out ? 

Every critic must decide for himself to what extent the ethical 
and moral content of a drama will weigh with him. In making up 
his judgment he will remember that art, as such, knows no code of 
morals; but he will also remember that the average mind is in¬ 
capable of subtle distinctions, and that the theater is a potent 
power in shaping public opinion—a power that should not be 
turned to degrading nor to doubtful purposes. 

Framing the review. In the practical writing of dramatic criti¬ 
cism the reporter should take thought of the news values of the 
various features the play presents. The star appearing in the per¬ 
formance may be of more importance than the play. At other 
times the reverse may be true. The story of the play may be com¬ 
mon property; then to relate it becomes an impertinence. Again, 
it may be more or less of a mystery, and so a sketchy outline is 
justified. At still other times the reviewer will find that a mis¬ 
taken idea has been given in advance, and this must be corrected. 
Generally speaking, a play can be criticized on the basis afforded 
by its previous advertisement. If it announces itself as something 
pretentious, it must be held up to the most severe standards. If 
it is confessedly but a trifling affair, the reviewer makes himself 
ridiculous by taking it too seriously. 

Fixed rules cannot be given for the putting together of dram¬ 
atic reviews, for then they would be all alike and therefore lacking 
in their chief charm, spontaneity and freshness. The subjoined 
critique will b6 found to contain the essential elements, both of 
news and criticism, blended in the proportions the writer thought 
proper. The "who, when, where, and what” demanded of a news¬ 
paper report are all to be found, emphasized early in the written 
account. The names in the cast are printed; then come an ex¬ 
position of the play, an analysis of the acting, and the human 
equations that seem to be involved. The attitude of the audience 
is not forgotten. The review occupies a trifle more space than the 
average paper accords the average production. The excuse in this 
case was that the play, the author, and the star were considered so 
interesting as to deserve extended comment. The custom is that 
morning newspapers give more attention and space to the theatri- 


286 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 

cal world than do evening papers, for the obvious reason that more 
noteworthy events take place in the evening and are fresh for the 
morning paper than fall to the lot of the evening publication. 
Notable exceptions to this, however, are not hard to find. The re¬ 
viewer on the morning paper is generally forced to leave the play¬ 
house before the close of the production because his copy must be 
ready for the printers by midnight. He is not always as well 
armed with impressions bearing on the play’s outcome as his 
brother critic on an afternoon paper, but his review is apt to be 
more spontaneous and original. 

The criticism which follows was written by Charles Collins and 
appeared in the Chicago Evening Post : 

POTENT REALISM, VIVID ACTING, IN 
“ANNA CHRISTIE” 

"ANNA CHRISTIE” 

A play by Eugene O’Neill, presented at the 
Cort theater, April 9, 1922, with Pauline Lord 
as star, under the management of Arthur Hop¬ 
kins. The cast: 

Johnny-the-Priest ... 

First Longshoreman . 

Second Longshoreman 

Larry. 

A Postman. 

Chris. Christopherson 

Marthy Owen. 

Anna Christopherson 

Mat Burke . 

Johnson . 

Three Sailors. 

... Messrs. Reilly, Hansen and Kennedy 

Act I.—Johnny-the-Priest’s saloon near the water 
front, New York City. 

Act II.—The barge, Simeon Winthrop, at anchor in 
the harbor of Provincetown, Mass., ten days 
later. 

Act III.—Cabin of the barge, at dock in Boston, 
a week later. 

Act IV.—The same, two days later. 


James C. Mack 
,. .G. O. Taylor 
. . John Hanley 
.Eugene Lincoln 
. Arthur Hurley 
George Marion 
. Eugenie Blair 
,. Pauline Lord 
Frank Shannon 
,. Ole Anderson 


By CHARLES COLLINS 

"WE’RE ALL poor nuts,” observes the heroine 
of "Anna Christie,” who knows much of the 
drab, obscene realities of life, "and things just 
happen, that’s all.” 















EDITORIALS AND REVIEWS 


287 


The old Greeks wrote pompous poetical clas¬ 
sics on much the same theme; in high-sounding 
hexameters, with the Olympian gods figuring in 
the plot, they dramatized the riddle of Destiny. 
In the blunt, vivid talk of the water front and 
the slums, with a harlot and a pair of rough 
sailor men for his leading characters, Eugene 
O’Neill, a dramatist whose work is restoring 
imagination to a place on the American stage, 
revives that ancient tradition, with exceedingly 
modern variations. 

"Anna Christie” came to the Cort theater 
last night, fresh from its New York success, to 
reveal some of the most impressive acting of 
the season and to tell a story that is potent 
with atmosphere, emotion and realism. The 
play is enthralling in its study of a group of 
intensely individualized characters, grim in their 
contacts with life and yet glamorous with the 
mood of romance. It brings a new thrill into 
the adventures of the chronic theater-goer. 

The things that happen to Anna Christie, 
causing her to come to the conclusion that 
" we’re all poor nuts,” and that nobody in partic¬ 
ular is to be blamed for the sad and shabby 
mistakes we make in our struggles toward hap¬ 
piness, are simple enough. As the play unfolds 
them, however, they become breathless with ex¬ 
citement and poignant with sympathetic appeal. 

Anna is first seen as she drags her suitcase 
into the back room of a sordid water-front 
saloon in New York, there to meet her father, 
whom she has not seen for fifteen years. That 
father is a Swedish sailor man who thinks that 
the sea is an "old devil”—a phrase always 
on his lips—and who has been content to let 
his daughter grow up inland, away from marine 
allurements. But Anna soon discloses the fact 
that there has been no safety for her in the 
middle west; she grows confidential as she sits 
in that back room, drinking whisky with a 
trollop of the wharves, and admits that for the 
last two years she has been an inmate of a 
house of prostitution in St. Paul. Out of this 
experience she has brought a quiet cynicism 
about life and a hard contempt for men—all of 
that sex, including her unremembered father, 
with whom she hopes to find shelter until she 
can recover her health. When the reunion 
comes it is the weather-beaten, sea-calloused 
parent—now the captain of a coal barge — who 





288 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 


proves to be the sentimentalist of the family. 
Anna Christie herself, although not too tough 
to be winsome, finds it difficult to discover the 
emotions of a loving daughter. 

In the second act they are cruising on the 
barge—if a humble barge whose motive power 
is a tug can be considered to cruise—and Anna 
is comfortably established in the captain’s cabin, 
which she finds much more to her liking than 
she had expected. What is more, the sea— 
which her father constantly curses—is bringing 
her peace of mind and cleanness of soul. The 
spirit of her marine ancestors stirs within her. 
She is happy now, for the first time in her life; 
and whenever she remembers the farm in Min¬ 
nesota where vice entrapped her, she shudders 
away from it. Here is clean water; back there, 
inland, there is nothing but mud. 

The barge takes aboard a boatload of ex¬ 
hausted sailors, survivors of shipwreck picked 
up in the fog; and among them is a romantic 
and masterful stoker, an Irishman capable of 
all the rowdyism and emotionalism of his race. 
Love comes to him at the first sight of Anna’s 
face, and with this exaltation he begins to talk 
at length like a composite of all the characters 
ever acted at the Abbey theater of Dublin. He 
finds favor in Anna’s eyes, but the old barge- 
master grows bilious and venomous at the mere 
thought of his daughter being wooed by a 
suitor who follows the enchantments of that 
Old Devil, the Sea. 

The issue between Anna, her wooer and her 
father is fought out and talked out, with much 
dramatic power, in the last two acts, when the 
barge is in Boston harbor. The stoker is for 
an immediate marriage, to discourage which 
idea the captain ineffectually pulls a clasp-knife. 
To end the argument between them, Anna, un¬ 
balanced by the irony of the romantic love 
which has come into her soiled life, and enraged 
by her father’s "Old Devil” obsession, which 
had compelled her to become the helpless victim 
of Minnesota lust, blurts out the secret of her 
career in St. Paul. 

After the harrowing revelation, and the emo¬ 
tional avalanches which it evokes from those 
simple-minded men of the sea, a tragic ending 
might have been expected from Mr. O’Neill, 
who has a tendency to wallow in gloom. He 
has chosen, however, a happier course, much 




EDITORIALS AND REVIEWS 


289 


to the comfort of his audiences. Its truthful¬ 
ness, moreover, cannot be impeached, although 
there are some almost flippant touches in the 
* last act which would seem to indicate that it 

goes against Mr. O’Neill’s grain to write a con¬ 
ventionally cheerful ending. 

At any rate, the father does not kill the 
stoker, although the thought occurred to him 
as a possible relief for his feelings; and the 
stoker does not wring Anna’s neck, as he was • 
tempted to do; and Anna does not commit 
suicide, in spite of temptations to go over the 
side. Instead, the heart-bruised men go on shore 
for a two days’ debauch; and then they come 
staggering back, haggard but ready to come to 
a compromise with the situation. Anna swears 
upon the cross that no matter what she had 
done or how she had lived, she had never loved 
any man but this same roaring, bellicose stoker; 
and he is content with the conviction that she 
has spoken the truth. As the curtain falls they 
are firmly resolved to become a happy seafaring 
family, with Anna on shore keeping up a nice 
little cottage to which husband and father can 
return at the end of the voyage. The old barge- 
master, who had signed up for the deep-sea run 
during his debauch, refuses, however, to alter 
his theory that the sea is an old devil, always 
up to tricks for the beguilement of sailor men. 

Pauline Lord’s perfect portrayal of the girl 
from a "joint” in St. Paul is matched by a 
rich, highly vitalized study of the Swedish 
father at the hands of George Marion. Frank 
Shannon’s acting of the dominating, romantic 
Irish stoker is admirable. Eugenie Blair appears 
in the first act as a boozy paramour-at-large to 
elderly barge men, and adds another memo¬ 
rable characterization to the performance. 

Musical criticism. The problems of musical criticism are es¬ 
sentially the same as those relating to the drama, with this excep¬ 
tion, that the field is much more largely supplied with amateur 
talent. Musical criticism in the United States as a rule leaves a 
great deal to be desired. Until recent years Germany offered the 
best type of musical criticism, and only those newspapers which 
have adopted the foreign standard can be safely taken as examples. 

In musical reviewing the mistaken idea obtains that the writer 
ought to be a performer. An acute ear, a retentive memory, famil- 




290 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 

iarity with standard musical compositions, and a knowledge of 
musical literature are the essentials. Illustrative of this point— 
to offer intelligent criticism it may be necessary to know Tscfyai- 
kowsky’s " 1812 ” Overture. But this knowledge is as easily gained 
by listening to it as by attempting to play it. Then there must be 
a knowledge of what the composer had in mind and heart when 
he wrote it. Next must come an acute ear, which will detect if the 
violins are in tune and the horns in pitch, as well as realize that 
the proper tempo is maintained by the various instruments. 

It is undoubtedly true that a proficiency in any branch of music 
will be of great value to one attempting critical work on musical 
matters, but between a knowledge of music and a knowledge of 
newspaper methods and requirements combined with appreciation 
there can be no question as to where the choice will lie. 

In musical criticism as in dramatic criticism, the critic’s value 
to himself and to his paper increases rapidly with the lengthening 
of his service if only he have a retentive memory. To retain the 
presentation of a score vividly in mind for a period of five or ten 
years which may elapse between the two hearings of such a monu¬ 
mental composition as Beethoven’s Choral Symphony is a feat 
that causes many to marvel, yet it is one to which the best critics 
are equal. The great critic will remember if this director read 
such a symphony deliberately or tempestuously, and whether the 
other one directed an overture with fire or with composure. 

No camera has ever been invented that would picture and retain 
impressions. The critic, in whatever branch of art he is working, 
must carry with him constantly vivid impressions of the acknowl¬ 
edged authorities in his field—Galli-Curci’s rendition of an aria; 
McCormack’s singing of ballads; the Boston Symphony Orchestra’s 
interpretation of a Mendelssohn mass; Sir Henry Irving as Shy- 
lock; Joseph Jefferson as Rip Van Winkle. In literature and in 
the fine arts it is possible to revert to the actual masterpiece for 
comparison, but in music and the drama these standards must be 
immortalized in the memory of the critic. 

Literary criticism. Book criticism, if intelligent and authorita¬ 
tive, is the outgrowth of an innate appreciation of literary values; 
familiarity with the distinctive types and the history of the dif¬ 
ferent national literatures; knowledge of the current writers and 


EDITORIALS AND REVIEWS 


291 


their works; fair, yet candidly expressed, opinion; and the ability 
to use good English. Censure should be unerringly just; praise, 
discriminatingly encouraging. It is therefore self-evident that 
literary criticism, properly so called, is not a work for the tyro. 
There are, however, three forms, distinct in purpose, employed in 
the book-review department of even daily newspapers: first, the 
commendatory notice; second, the review; and third, the critique. 

The first and simplest form, that known as the commendatory 
notice, has as its primary office the furthering of book sales 
through the medium of skillfully worded, laudatory comment— 
that most artistic and effective kind of advertising. 

The second form presents, practically without original com¬ 
ment, the review; that is, the outlined contents of a given volume. 
The merit of this book review lies in a reviewer’s twofold ability of 
perception and selection. Does he grasp the pivotal points in the 
author’s work? Can he present these, once selected, so logically 
and effectively as to leave in the reader’s mind a comprehensive 
impression of the entire book, photographic in clearness, faultless 
in accuracy? If so, then he performs the function of a reviewer. 

In the critique, the third form, are blended the salient features 
of the review, together with analytical discussion of the author’s 
personality, literary attainments, motives, and methods. Ob¬ 
viously scholarship and ripened judgment are the prerequisites 
of the critique. 

Painting and sculpture. Least practiced of all competent criti¬ 
cism in this country is that in the fields of painting and sculpture. 
The comment is frequently made that America has as yet no na¬ 
tional art. This assertion is still so close to the truth that there 
are no recognized national standards established as the authorita¬ 
tive basis of art criticism. In the matter of personal equipment 
for this difficult and comparatively infrequent form of newspaper 
work it is safe to remember the following injunction: The more 
accurate your knowledge of technique, the greater your famil¬ 
iarity with the different schools of painting, the more generous 
your endowment of art culture through the threefold mediums of 
reading, of seeing the best in art at home and abroad, and of per¬ 
sonal acquaintance with representative artists, correspondingly 
the more competent will your art criticism become. 


292 ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 

Independence of attitude. The critic, in whatever branch of 
newspaper work he may busy himself, will frequently be con¬ 
fronted with the baffling statement, " After all, criticism in print 
is only of one man—and he does not know everything.” Never 
forget that the critic has two clearly defined duties: (i) to know 
and (2) to speak with authority. He must be right, or at least 
habitually right, or, just as the engineer who cannot keep his train 
on time, he will be compelled to give way to the rival who earns 
deserved confidence. He cannot escape being placed in a position 
of authority. Of necessity he becomes identified with his work, 
and to the clientele of the art he treats he more nearly becomes a 
celebrity than any other sort of newspaperman. 

No department of newspaper work calls for more varied ac¬ 
complishments, makes more serious and more frequent demands 
upon the resources of the individual, than the practice of analyt¬ 
ical criticism. Successfully accomplished, it is a splendid achieve¬ 
ment. Regarded merely as an incident in a professional career, 
it frequently leads to other fields that present greater opportuni¬ 
ties for personal advancement and remuneration. 


CHAPTER X 


PRINTING, ADVERTISING, CIRCULATION 

§1 

THE MECHANICAL DEPARTMENT 

Converting news into type. The work of a reporter ceases when 
he has written his story and given it into the care of the city edi¬ 
tor; but the story itself has only reached the first round in the 
series of steps that bring it before the public. After being in¬ 
spected and either accepted, rejected, or revised, it is sent to the 
composing-room, put into type, made ready for the press, and 
printed—in all a complex process, sometimes little understood by 
newspapermen themselves. 

To make clear this process of converting copy into columns of 
type, it seems best to take a typical example. 

A group of reporters is at work collecting the news of a mid¬ 
night fire raging in an important wholesale district. The news¬ 
paperman in command of the situation has delegated certain 
duties to his subordinates. One reporter is busy checking up the 
loss of life and property; another is consulting the fire chief and 
his lieutenants on the cause back of the fire, also about exciting 
rescues, the menace to surrounding property, and the business of 
fighting the flames; still another is interviewing bystanders and 
securing some interesting side lights. All this ill-assorted in¬ 
formation will be telephoned into the newspaper office by the va¬ 
rious reporters, and there prepared for publication by the rewrite 
men and copy-readers. As the fire progresses all sorts of facts 
will continue to trickle into the office, bringing additional prob¬ 
lems of news-editing and display. 

As bulletins, fresh leads, corrections, insertions, additional de¬ 
tails, are received, they are sent by pneumatic tubes to the 
composing-room, with headlines written and type indicated and 

293 


JSamuel E. Garret is dead. 

_1 or !_ indicates the beginning of a 

paragraph, jj may also be used. 

white house 

Three short lines under a letter or word 
indicate that it is to be set in capitals. 

Kansas Citv Star 

Two short lines under a letter or word in¬ 
dicate that it is to be set in small capitals. 

in absentia 

A single line under a word indicates 
italics. 

High ^ftreet’ 

An oblique line drawn from right to 
left through a capital indicates that it is 
to be a small letter. 

in the churchrj 

CThe sermon 

A line connecting two paragraphs in¬ 
dicates that they are to be combined. 


(Pro f ) Rolfe, who is (fifty one^) A circle around numerical figures or 

abbreviations indicates that they are to 


JL +iot 

Announcments were made 

A A 

be spelled out and vice versa. 

A caret is placed at a point where cor¬ 
rections are to be made above the line. 

to (properly\appreeiate) 

A line encircling two or more words, 
like an elongated figure ”8,” indicates 
that words are to be transposed. 

G0A0R0reunion 

A period in a circle indicates a period 
is to be used, x may also indicate a 
period. 

tyVou lie,\/ cried the witness 

A wedge or half-circle indicates quo¬ 
tation marks. 

typewriter 

Half-circles connecting words or let¬ 
ters indicate that they are to be joined. 

8 tylejsheet 

A vertical line between parts of a word 
shows that the parts are to be separated. 

A'^very'"prosperous 

A line carried over a word scratched 
out indicates the order of the words to 
be set. 

® 

# indicates the conclusion of a story. 


MARKS USED IN EDITING COPY 

These symbols are indicated in the body of the story by the copy-reader in 
preparing copy for the printer 















HzcloL 


- Howe H e 


)A y outhful bandit, v o - p -y shabbily dressed, 
walked into the Maryland ^fote 1^-a-U 1350 La~Sal le yfvenue, 

early to-day, pointed a pistol at ( Thos /A. Snell, -thre. night 

ZCb-t/k jrtsLck^ v 

clerk, a pprop^ia -l o d. 8100 from the cash register,' ana w— 

* 

c- aft ed* -M** Sn^ll was alone in the hotel 1 oJflry -a-t—trhe. 
t-iflve., ongaged - in working on his records. He glanced up 
-q ui ck ly —when the man approached the desk, and looked into 


the muzz (ejy of the pistol. 

)"Get into the room,” the bandit said, indi¬ 
cating w i th ' ha o f i ngxi v a small o - f f i o » room adjoining the 

Ay 

desk. Snell obeyed, and the bandit th e n fol lowed^-h-ieH. 

He opened the cash drawer and took out 8100 in currency, 
ignoring a small amount of s i 1 ve r, and overlooking 

-a noth e r 8100 in currency - hi -d- don - beneath a pile of -oep-t4— 
f ted.checks. 

d^r |Sne 1 1 called -*rke- police d epartme n t as the 
man walked out the door. - Tho pe—i-e— no clue 1 . 

'mi 


A PIECE OF EDITED COPY 


The copy-reader is called upon not only to correct Obvious errors in spelling and 
punctuation but also to invigorate, simplify, and condense copy for publication. 
This copy indicates only the marks most commonly used 

















296 ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 

with penciled instructions as to the place the story is to take in the 
final revision. The man who takes charge of the edited material 
as it arrives from the city desk is known as a copy-cutter or copy- 
clipper. It is his job to divide the copy into a number of " takes,” 
each of which is to be set by a linotype operator. This method 
hurries up composition and permits the paper on short order to 
get out an extra or catch an edition. 

Obviously there must be some system to avoid confusion when 
the time comes for assembling the " takes.” In the case of the 
fire story just mentioned the copy-cutter would mark the first 
section "Fire A i-,” indicating that this is the first paragraph and 
that there is more to come. The second division he marks "A 2-,” 
and continues in this fashion until the story is closed, indicating 
the conclusion by "A 5 #.” It is necessary, however, that the copy- 
clipper keep the story in mind to avoid mistakes. Accordingly 
he registers the story upon a ruled blank marked by a number of 
squares. The fire story would be indicated by such a note written 
by the copy-clipper in one of the squares, thus: "Fire A 1-5.” 
Other stories might be marked C, D, E, F, or B B. 

The next step consists in bringing together the various "takes” 
as set by the operators. This is the task of the bank man, a 
printer who follows the notations as found on the sheet made by 
the copy-cutter. The set matter has been placed on a long shelf, 
with no attempt at arrangement, the "fire” story among the rest. 
This story has been marked A and is in five sections. All the bank 
man has to do is to assemble the A sections and arrange the 
"takes” in consecutive numerical order. 

Every newspaper office has a list of technical terms relating to 
treatment of copy, each used in conveying desk instructions to 
copy-cutters, linotype operators, and bank men. These terms 
may be briefly summarized as follows: 

" A matter ” qr "Letter A .” Matter sent to the printer in advance of ex¬ 
pected news happenings is marked "A matter” or "Letter A” to indicate 
that a "lead” will come later (examples: speeches, biographical data). 

Add. An addition of late news to a story already written or in type. 
Usually tacked on at the end of the story, sometimes with a heading of 
its own. 

Art. Pictures or drawings prepared to illustrate an article. 

Bank. One of the divisions of a headline. Also a table for type. 


3 )Rewrite | —<-(s^R esearch| 



THE ROUTE OF A PIECE OF COPY 

Considering the many human channels through which the news must quickly pass 
before it reaches the reader, it is surprising that so few errors occur 
























































2 98 ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 

Box head. A series of type lines inclosed by thin strips of metal, making 
a "box.” 

Bulldog edition. Earliest regular edition. 

Bulletin. Late news developments told in brief, without details. A tele¬ 
graphic message. Generally set in blackface type. 

By-line. The author’s name, printed above a news article. 

Catch line. A line at the top of each page of copy as a signal to the 
composing-room in assembling stories and parts of stories. 

Flash. A bulletin of the barest facts of a news event which has just taken 
place, often thrust into the middle of a running story. 

Follow. A story written to follow another related story, and slugged 
"FOLO SUICIDE,” etc., as an indication to the composing-room. 

Folo. An abbreviation for " follow.” 

Hold. Marked at the beginning of copy or proof to instruct the make¬ 
up man not to print it until he has further orders. 

Insert. Additional sentences or paragraphs to be inserted in a story 
already in type, giving more complete or more accurate information. 

Jump. When a story runs from one page on to another the line of divi¬ 
sion is called the jump. 

Kill. To strike out or eliminate copy, usually after it has been put 
in type. 

Lead. The first sentence or paragraph of a story, usually containing 
the important facts. 

Lead (pronounced led). Thin strips of metal inserted between lines of 
type to give more open space and more prominence to the story. 

Pic. Any picture, whether prepared for use in the paper or not. 

Precede. Material to be used at the head of a story, received after the 
story has been written. 

Release. Advance copy is often sent to editors with instructions that 
it cannot be printed until a certain date. 

Slot. The inclosure of the copy desk where news is assembled for the 
composing-room. The head of the copy desk is said to "sit at the slot.” 

Slug, (i) The identifying word or title of a story; (2) a solid line of 
machine-set type. Also refers to a compositor’s number as inserted over 
the matter he has set. In the composing-room slug refers to a thick lead 
cast to the thickness of nonpareil (6 points) or to pica (12 points). 

Streamer head. A head in large type extending across the top of 
the page. 

Subhead. A head inserted in the body of the story. 

Take. A piece of copy, usually short, prepared for the printer; some¬ 
times, one sheet of copy from a writer. 

Turn rule. An editor’s instructions to the printer to turn the black face 
of the rule, thus indicating that the story is incomplete and that more 
is to follow. 


PRINTING, ADVERTISING, CIRCULATION 299 

§2 

PROOFREADING 

Verifying copy with proof. After the linotype slugs have been 
assembled by the bank man, the set matter is locked securely in 
a galley (a long brass receptacle) and taken to the proof press, 
where print of it is made on a long strip of paper. This is called 



PROOFREADERS AT WORK 

In the foreground are proofreaders, ranged about a hollow square, close to the 
proof presses and correction "bank” as well as to the battery of linotype ma¬ 
chines. Some newspapers still cage their proofreaders, a practice unnecessary 
where the readers follow both proof and copy. Order and economy of motion are 
nowhere more necessary than in the composing-room 


the first proof or the green proof. The next step is proofreading, 
a task usually given to two persons, one a proofreader and the 
other the copyholder. There are at present a surprising number 
of women proofreaders and assistants, or copyholders. The copy- 
holder reads over the reporter’s copy, while his companion keeps 
his eye on the proof itself, noting on the margin any discrepancies 
or typographical errors. Proofs are also sent to the respective 











300 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 


editors upstairs, although these executives seldom correct mere 
typographical errors, limiting themselves to changes in text. 

Proofreading is an exacting trade. It demands common sense, 
a quick eye, a good memory, and a broad education. These ele¬ 
ments are necessary if mistakes are to be rectified, misspelled 
words caught, and minor errors discovered. Many a newspaper¬ 
man is saved from careless blunders every day by the exacting 
scrutiny of the proofreader. 

A proofreader uses in his or her work a series of marks to indi¬ 
cate needed corrections. These symbols have become recognized 
in almost every office and will prove valuable to anyone who has 
occasion to read printed matter. They refer chiefly to typograph¬ 
ical errors. The reader of proof, however, must also keep his or 
her mind upon the sense of the story, to ferret out the many words 
that, while spelled correctly, have no real mission in the sentence. 
The proofreader will cut out expressions wrongly used and substi¬ 
tute words of the same length, if possible, in order not to necessi¬ 
tate the resetting of several lines of type. 

With the general use of typesetting machines, the work of 
reading proof has been simplified to a certain degree. Some 
errors are now mechanically impossible. The story given here¬ 
with is set by hand composition in order to show the operation 
of the system and to give examples of as many proofreaders’ 
marks as practicable. 


§3 

STEREOTYPING 

Reproducing newspaper pages. After a corrected proof has been 
taken and revised, the supervision of the proofreader ceases. 
The story is now ready for the next step toward publication. Act¬ 
ing upon instructions from the managing editor and the advertis¬ 
ing manager, who generally submits a dummy page indicating 'the 
space taken by advertisers, the make-up men now begin to place 
the story in columns separated by brass rules. Once the columns 
are filled the make-up man’s work is completed, and the " stone 
men” lock up the form in steel frames called chases. A form is 
matter in type, sufficient to make a page of a newspaper, usually 


LOTTIE GILSON, ONCE A STAR, 
DOING A TURN IN MUSIC HALL. 


Little Entertainer, No Longer Young, Has 
Lost Much of the Charm That Made 
Broadway Rave. 



/d/. (✓ 0 nQP York, July %-[Specia^ K Lottie 
. Gilson, who once made Broadway rave to 
V'.CdM- the tune oijj'he^unshine of Paradise^lle)^ ? 

CU is doing a turmrnusic tjall at Fort George!” 
jp, Lottie works stul because she has to. Old^, 
time theat^oers who recall the inimi£__ 
j ^able^little^ntertainer N will^e ^touchea 
1 , \>* at the irony of their favorites fate. 

’ •+ O. She is no longer youngj nor has she 
/ U' the twinkling toes of-e£ other days/and 
/ Imr voice has lost j^uch of its charmt 
Jl ’Ur.] 1 . ty}hen £ottie Gilson/ a demure Pennsyl- 

T vania gir^nade her debut a quarter of a 
D century ago, she was instantly proclaimed 
^ a star; her salary jumped at leaps and 
L* bounds/ After dozens of marriage pro/ 
posals she married young J. K. Emmett; 

O^son of the^comedian. Frequent quarrels 

f led to ttieir separation, divorce finally 

ending their carriage. /J 

She finally returned to the Vaudeville ' 

Stage, re sum ed h er ow n name, and again 
leaped inTTTpopular favor? Then nature ” 

interrupted and sent her an invalid to 
Jjot springs. There she met a harpist 
/ named Sully Dufree, and agam Lottiemn 

* J love. The romance was short and sne 
\}V sc^o 1 dropped out gf sight^ 

Cp* X Occasionally Broadway would hear »U„. 

‘ D fne former star. One afternoon she was tyf. 

, , _ picked up in a destitute condition and 1 
J/UsO jteh ya to a hospital. She recovered, and U 
"through a friend was given a chance to 
make good in a cheap concert hall. Miss 
Gilson said tojoay : 

‘i.1 mu through with matrimony. Two 
is sufficient, and I want to be left alone. 

I’m here trying out my old work and do- 
•"7 ing well. The people like me and lam ^ . 

/• sgrt of happy again. O, if I I pnly/ boulcf 
X get back, but they say rhninr>\nry* never 
£r\M 1/ j s come back.Vj^ yy* J 



31 


7 



Change bad letter 

Push down space 

^ Turn over 

?> Take out (dele) 

A Left out; insert 

Insert space 

V Even spacing 

w* Less space 

Close up entirely 

(^) Period 

Comma 

Colon 

Semicolon 

Apostrophe 

Quotation 

Hyphen 

Straighten lines 

ZZ Move over 

n Em-quad space 

/—W One-em dash 
^ / 

j —‘ J Two-em dash 
IT Paragraph 
No If No paragraph 
w.f. Wrong font 

. Let it stand 

Let it stand 
Transpose 
Capital letters 
Small caps. 

Lower case, or 
small letters 
Italics 



stet. 

tr. 

Caps 

s.c. 

l.c. 


Jtal. 


Rom. Roman 


PROOFREADERS’ MARKS 

Proof as it comes from the compositors is apt to be full of errors. Proofreaders 
correct these mistakes by a standard series of symbols indicated in the margin of 
the proof. These marks are quite different from those used in editing copy 





302 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 



READY FOR CASTING PLATES 

The matrix used for casting half-cylinder plates, which are later clamped on the 
press, is made of papier-mache. Depressions, instead of ink, show the type outlines 


seven or eight columns. Matter is said to be "in the form” when 
it occupies the place it is intended to have in the printed page. 
Matter in type, but not intended for immediate use, is described 
as "standing,” or "live.” Care must be taken to see to it that 
all the columns are closely packed; otherwise a jolt or a sudden 









































PRINTING, ADVERTISING, CIRCULATION 303 

fall, after the chase is taken from the stands, may result in a 
scattering of type, a "pied” form. In a modern newspaper office, 
however, there is little danger of this accident, since the type is 
in the shape of lead slugs instead of movable pieces. 

In smaller offices the paper is printed direct from the original 
form; but it is evident that a long run of many thousand papers 



THE STEREOTYPING ROOM OF THE DETROIT NEWS 

At the right are the electric tables where damp matrices are pressed onto type 
pages, or forms, under a pressure of 700 pounds to the square inch, and then 
baked dry under a pressure of n tons and a temperature of from 350 to 400 de¬ 
grees. In the center "plates” are being cast from the matrix, reproducing the 
original type, and at the left they are being trimmed, cooled, and marked for 
identification by the pressmen. The stereotypers shown above handle 70 tons of 
metal a day and work under intense heat 


would result in battered type and considerable delay, which to a 
newspaper means loss of both prestige and money. In larger of¬ 
fices, therefore, the form must undergo a reproductive or stereo¬ 
typing process before actual printing begins. 

In the stereotyping process the form is put face up on an iron 
stand, and a sheet, composed of many layers of tissue paper, 
placed upon the flat page of type. A heavy blanket is then laid 
over the tissue-paper mat, and the form is rolled under a heavy 




304 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 

cylinder, which subjects it to intense pressure, driving the face of 
the type into the texture of the papier-mache. The mold, which 
carries a sharp impression of the type, is then quickly baked by 
steam until it becomes hard and brittle. This matrix, as it is 
known, is curved into a semicircular shape and placed within the 
casting-box, which is turned on end for the receiving of hot molten 
metal. After the plate is cooled and trimmed, it is ready to be 
attached to the cylinders of the press. Any number of duplicates 
may be made, depending upon the number of papers to be printed. 

In former days the rough edges of the cylinders were trimmed 
by hand, but the invention of the autoplate has quickened the 
process, so that it is now possible to finish the plates at the rate 
of four a minute. Ordinarily the stereotypers have the first plate 
ready in fifteen minutes after a page of type reaches them from the 
composing-room, following this with duplicates every fifteen or 
twenty seconds. 

§4 

TYPESETTING MACHINERY 

In large newspaper offices very little typesetting is done by 
the old tedious hand method, except in the case of advertise¬ 
ments, and even these are today partly and sometimes wholly 
machine-set. The typesetting machine, which does five times as 
much work as the old-style hand compositor, is now a necessity. 

The linotype. The linotype, invented by Ottmar Mergenthaler 
in 1885, is the pioneer of type-composing machines. It contains 
one or more keyboards, not unlike those of typewriters, and one 
or more magazines filled with small, thin brass plates with char¬ 
acters cut into one edge. The function of these plates, or matrices, 
as they are known, is to set and cast a solid line of metal type. 
This is accomplished by assembling the matrices and space bands 
required for a line of a certain length. The row of assembled 
matrices and space bands is then brought into contact with molten 
metal. The work is mechanically done. All that is required of 
the operator is the pressing of the keys and the pushing down of 
the lever which sends the assembled line on its way to casting 
position. As soon as one line has been cast, the machine deposits 
it in a holder and is ready to assemble and cast another. 


PRINTING, ADVERTISING, CIRCULATION 305 

The matrices are brass negatives of characters. Each different 
letter or figure has its own channel in a magazine, and as many as 
twenty like matrices can be accommodated in one channel. The 
matrices are carried from the magazine to the assembling elevator 



FIVE COMPOSITORS IN ONE 

On this machine it is possible for one person to produce in the same time as much 
composition as ordinarily could be produced by five or six persons doing the work 
by hand. It also places at the command of the operator four different body sizes, 
seven different faces, or five hundred and sixty-eight different characters, in sizes 
from 5 to 36 point and in slug widths ranging from 4 to 30 picas 

by means of a fast-moving belt, upon which they fall when the keys 
are pressed. The metal in the pot is kept molten by either electric 
or gas heat, regulated automatically. The pot contains a plunger 
which forces the right amount of molten metal into contact with 
the line of matrices and space bands in position against the face of 

















3 o6 ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 

one of four molds in a circular disk known as the mold disk. After 
the slug is cast, the matrices are automatically returned to their 
proper channels, and the space bands are automatically returned 
to the space-band box. 

The latest model linotype, Model 24, equipped with four main 
magazines and a display unit of two pairs of auxiliary magazines, 

makes possible the pro¬ 
duction of virtually all 
sizes of composition with¬ 
out the operator’s leaving 
his seat. 

The intertype. While 
the intertype resembles the 
linotype in general design, 
and while the same ma¬ 
trices may be used inter¬ 
changeably in both types 
of machines, there are 
many important differ¬ 
ences in details of con¬ 
struction. The intertype 
is so standardized that 
users can buy the less ex¬ 
pensive models, which are 
designed to set a limited 
number of type faces, and 
later convert them into 
versatile machines which set a wide range of type styles and 
sizes. The latest intertype sets lines, or slugs, of type seven 
inches wide, in sizes up to 36-point bold, full width, or 6o-point 
bold condensed. It may be used for setting a great variety of 
head-letter and display-advertising type faces, as well as for 
text matter. 

The general tendency in intertype design is toward simplicity, 
especially in the quick-change mechanisms. Another character¬ 
istic is the interchangeability of all parts on the various models 
carrying one, two, and three magazines. This interchangeability 
includes the intertype side magazine unit, an auxiliary mechanism 



MATRICES AND SPACE BANDS 


Each touch of a key releases a brass mold of 
a letter or a thin wedge-shaped band to sepa¬ 
rate the words. When a line has been thus as¬ 
sembled, it is cast into a slug by an automatic 
device; hence the name, linotype 







PRINTING, ADVERTISING, CIRCULATION 307 

for carrying head-letter, advertising figures, and other special 
character matrices. This unit can be applied, either before or 
after shipment, to any standardized intertype. 

The linograph. In late years another composing-machine, called 
the linograph, has been placed upon the market. It is designed 
especially for the small country paper and does not contain all the 



SILVERED BARS OF THOUGHT 

After the lines have been set on the machine and automatically cast, they drop 
down into what is called the stick. From this they are assembled for the form 

specialized equipment of the larger machines. Its magazines are 
smaller and lighter and can be changed with great rapidity. The 
spaces made on the linograph are lower than those made on any 
other machine, preventing them from working into print on 
the press. 

The wide use of these slug-casting machines has made possible 
the making of larger and better newspapers throughout the world. 
Many magazines and books are also machine-set. 

The monotype. The monotype differs from the linotype in that 
its product is not a solid type line, but is a row of individual char¬ 
acters set side by side. The advantage of the process is that the 
printing is always done from new type. The machine is composed 
of two distinct parts, which operate entirely independent of each 
other. These parts, the keyboard and the caster, may be located 
in different buildings, and their operation may be separated by 
distance or time. 





3°8 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 



The keyboard of the monotype resembles that of any standard 
typewriter. When the operator presses the keys a series of holes 
are punched in a ribbon of paper about five inches wide. This 
ribbon, like the music roll on the player piano, is fed into the 

caster and controls auto¬ 
matically the casting of 
the letters, at the rate of 
one hundred and forty a 
minute, and places them 
side by side in justified 
lines on a galley ready 
for the proof press. 

The caster may also be 
used for the making of 
borders, rules, leads, slugs, 
and extra letters and 
characters, known to the 
printer as sorts. The 
monotype keyboard has 
a range of two hundred 
and twenty-five characters 
in twelve sizes of one 
dimension. It is accurate 
to two ten-thousandths of 
an inch. 

The Ludlow. The Lud¬ 
low is a machine for cast¬ 
ing large display faces for 
newspaper and magazine 
work. Mats of the vari¬ 
ous letters and characters 
are taken from a series of drawers and placed in the proper 
sequence in a boxlike container called a stick. When a line has 
been thus assembled, it is placed in the machine, molten metal 
applied, and a solid type strip produced. 

The invention and use of these labor-saving machines sounded the 
doom of the old-time hand compositor, a picturesque figure in the 
newspaper shops of a generation ago, particularly in the large cities. 


THE MONOTYPE KEYBOARD 

The machine has the standard-typewriter key 
arrangement, from which the operator sets 
the matter to be reproduced in type. The de¬ 
pression of the keys perforates small round 
holes in a paper ribbon which is used as the 
controlling mechanism for the casting machine 
in a manner quite similar to the paper ribbon 
on a player piano 



PRINTING, ADVERTISING, CIRCULATION 

§5 

PRINTING PRESSES 


309 



Speed and circulation. Huge web perfecting rotary presses, in 
reality a number of presses built together, are now used to print 
urban newspapers. They 
are devised to make the 
greatest possible speed 
because of the enormous 
number of copies that 
must be printed daily. 

R. Hoe and Company 
have contributed much to 
the development of this 
type of press since the 
first one was installed in 
the pressroom of the 
London Times in 1868. 

Endless ribbons of paper 
of various widths are fed 
into the rotary press and 
come out completed news¬ 
papers, counted, folded, 
pasted, sometimes even 
wrapped for the mail. As 
many as 300,000 eight- 
page or 150,000 sixteen- 
page papers can be printed 
in one hour on the fastest 
of these machines. 

There are three types 
of cylinders on the rotary 
perfecting press. The 
most important of these 

is the stereotype-plate-bearing unit, from which the machine de¬ 
rives its name. As many as eight curved plates of separate pages 
are locked on one of these cylinders, and the same number on the 
twin unit next to it. Two cylinders are always required in each 


This machine, under the control of the key¬ 
board ribbon, casts types from hot metal and 
sets them into justified lines ready to be locked 
up for the press. This machine when not used 
as a composing machine is turned into a type 
foundry for making display type, space ma¬ 
terial, continuous-strip material, leads, rules, 
slugs, and borders 


THE MONOTYPE CASTING MACHINE 





3 io 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 

unit, one for each side of the sheet. If there were eight plates on 
each cylinder, the result would be a 16-page paper. The two other 
types of cylinders are the platen, or impression cylinder, which re¬ 
volves and presses the paper against the face of the type; and 
the inking roll, which operates between the automatic ink foun¬ 
tains and the surface of the type, regulating the color of the work. 
Not only is it possible to have duplicate cylinders in the press, but 
entirely new units may be added in the multiple machines, the 
product of each unit ultimately combining into an 8, 16, 24, 36, 
48, or 64 page paper. Various multiple types are known as the 
quadruple, sextuple, octuple, double sextuple, double octuple, 
and the like. 

A remarkable achievement in speed is the " lightning folder ” 
mechanism, designed and patented by R. Hoe and Company. 
The paper, after having passed between the plate and impression 
cylinders, where it is printed on both sides, is then taken over 
rollers to the folders, where it is given the longitudinal fold, cut 
in proper lengths, and given the final half-page fold ready to be 
delivered to its readers. An ingenious mechanism on the press 
pushes every fiftieth paper a little beyond the others, thus show¬ 
ing at a glance the number delivered. The motion of the folders 
is rotary and continuous, and their speed is restricted only by the 
limitations of paper, ink, composition rollers, and other condi¬ 
tions of printing. 

The largest printing press in the world was recently delivered 
to a New York newspaper. It is the Hoe twenty-cylinder multi¬ 
color machine, composed of twenty separate printing sections, 
each section a complete unit in itself, but standard and inter¬ 
changeable. The press is capable of turning out 8-page color 
sections, combined with 24-page magazine sections with various 
combinations of colors, at the rate of twenty thousand an hour. 

" Fudging ” the news. The making-over and recasting of an 
entire plate to take care of late news is no longer the practice in 
many newspaper offices, owing to the utilization of the " fudge,” 
or 'Tate news” device, a small printing cylinder chase which may 
be attached to a rotary press. The "beds” in this device contain 
wedge-shaped linotype slugs and are arranged with lock-up to 
hold them securely in place. A small fountain and the necessary 


PRINTING, ADVERTISING, CIRCULATION 311 

inking rollers are provided for inking the lines. Sometimes the 
printing is done in red or green ink to give greater news appeal. 

The space for late news bulletins—notably results of horse and 
automobile races, football and baseball games, prize fights, elec¬ 
tions, and the like—is carefully blocked out in advance, and the 



THE PRESSROOM OF THE DETROIT NEWS 

Diffusion of knowledge through the modern newspaper is made possible as a result 
of the development of the web press. This battery of synchronized units is 193 feet 
long and has a capacity of more than 500,000 sixteen-page papers, printed, cut, 
folded, counted, and delivered to the mailing-room every hour. The paper is fed 
in a ribbon from reels in the basement; passes between rollers "dressed” with the 
stereotyped plates, and into the folders where the mechanical process of produc¬ 
ing the newspaper is completed. The ink is pumped through pipes from distant 
storage tanks into the "fountains” of the presses 

regular plates stereotyped with blank space reserved for the print¬ 
ing of "fudge” matter. This arrangement is similar to the "stop 
press” practice in vogue on many English newspapers, but has 
greater advantages. 

Methods of "fudging” the news are a great boon, particularly 
to the afternoon papers eager to print "hot” news at the earliest 
possible moment. The time may come when news pictures will be 
printed in the same way. 




312 ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 

When announcement of an important news development is 
imminent, such as the election of the president of the United 
States, it is the custom on some enterprising, often overzealous 
newspapers to have two plates ready in the pressroom, each an¬ 
nouncing a different result. As soon as the "flash” comes, the 
plate carrying the correct news streamer is quickly locked on the 
press, and in a few minutes the papers are on the street. 


§6 

NEWSPAPER "ART” 

The making of illustrations. Newspaper pictures, now so dis¬ 
tinct a feature in modern newspapers, are printed from plates 
made by the paper’s engraving department. These illustrations 
are generally of two types—the line engraving and the half tone. 
A line engraving is a plate which reproduces black and white (a 
cartoon, for instance), and a half tone is an engraving which is full 
of gray tones ranging between black and white. By tone the en¬ 
graver means the relative amount of light reflected by an object. 
In making the line engraving the old wet-plate process, long ago 
discarded in photography, is used. A plate of glass is first covered 
with an albumen solution and, after drying, is coated with col¬ 
lodion and later with silver nitrate to make it sensitive to light. 
This plate is exposed under a strong light to the drawing to be re¬ 
produced, and the first negative is made. The negative is removed 
from the glass, reversed, and by another exposure is transferred 
onto the final zinc plate. 

The half tone reproduces photographs. It is made by photo¬ 
graphing the original picture through a screen which breaks the 
light up into dots on a sensitized plate. The dots are massed ac¬ 
cording to the light and shade in the original, and the result is a 
gray tone. The screen used in newspaper work generally contains 
sixty-five lines to the inch, finer screens being used in other kinds 
of engraving. After exposure the half-tone negative undergoes 
the same chemical treatment as the line negative, excepting that 
it is generally transferred to copper instead of zinc. 


PRINTING, ADVERTISING, CIRCULATION 313 

§7 

TYPE FACES AND TYPE DISPLAY 

Display and body type. Type divides itself into two distinct 
classes: body type, used for plain composition in paragraphs of 
one face, like the reading-matter of the ordinary newspaper; and 
display, a general term denoting bolder, heavier faces made for 
headlines, advertising, and all other composition where emphasis 
is required. 

While type foundries still compete with each other in designing 
novel faces or in reviving old ones, they have now reached a com¬ 
mon agreement on standardization of sizes. The point system for 
measuring type bodies is today universally recognized. A point 
is estimated as 1/72 of an inch, equivalent to 1/12 of the standard 
pica The old names of nonpareil, minion, brevier, and bour¬ 
geois for body type have been displaced by their point measure¬ 
ments—6, 7, 8, and 9 point respectively. Upon this basis foundries 
have built up entire families and styles of type faces. Divergen¬ 
cies, to meet various printing needs, are generally to be found in 
matters of width and height, not in radical innovations in face con¬ 
tour. For instance, the Cheltenham series offers the accompany¬ 
ing adaptations of face: 

This is 12-point 

Cheltenham Bold Extra Condensed 
This is 12-point 
Cheltenham Bold Condensed 
This is 12-point 
Cheltenham Bold Medium 
This is 12-point 

Cheltenham Bold Extended 

Prevailing newspaper faces. The Gothics find a large and useful 
place in present-day newspapers, especially in news headlines, for 
which modifications of the original lining or square Gothics are 


3 M ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 

employed—mainly heavy and light condensed faces—to permit 
the maximum number of words in the single and double columns. 
A condensed medium Antique, as used in the New York Times, 
makes the cleanest and most legible headline type. 

There is a growing tendency these days to break up the rigidity 
of headlines set in capitals through the substitution of lower case 
(the small letters of the alphabet), on the ground that lower case 
is much easier to read and more artistic in make-up. The typo¬ 
graphical dress of the New York Tribune is made particularly 
harmonious and inviting because of this practice. 

In line with magazine and trade-paper advertising, advertising 
display has also undergone many changes during the past few 
years. Almost all national and a goodly percentage of local ad¬ 
vertisers now place their advertising accounts in the hands of 
agencies, which write, prepare, and look after the setting of the 
advertisements, as well as placing them. Such agencies know the 
value of a well-set advertisement, and consequently there are 
many expert printers, especially in the larger cities, who are pro¬ 
ficient in writing copy and planning layouts. These typographers 
are employed mainly by agencies, although occasionally they con¬ 
sult directly with the advertiser. First the advertisement is elec- 
trotyped, following an O. K. from the advertiser, then cut blocks 
are sent to newspapers holding contracts for publication. Uni¬ 
formity in space and display is thus assured. The practice permits 
the public to become thoroughly acquainted with the distinctive 
style of certain advertisements—notably the John Wanamaker 
stores—and makes for a higher quality of typography, not se¬ 
cured when each composing-room sets its own copy. 

The leading advertisers have narrowed their use of type faces 
to a few families: Goudy Old Style, with italics and boldface; 
Kennerly Old Style, with italics; Cloister Old Style, with italics, 
bold face, and bold italic; Caslon Old Style, with italics; and a 
few others, such as Bookman, Scotch Roman, and the new Cooper 
series. These form the bulk of the best typographical practice, 
a practice characterized by a minimum of ornamentation and em¬ 
bellishment. Simple, plain-rule borders prevail for the most part; 
illustration and type face harmonize in tone and contour; liberal 
white space is distributed throughout the advertisement. In short, 


PRINTING, ADVERTISING, CIRCULATION 315 

the average advertisement, especially in the metropolitan dailies, 
gives evidence of having received expert attention looking toward 
proper presentation, so that the advertiser will receive maximum 
return for his expenditure. Newspaper space is becoming too 
expensive to permit cheap, ineffective experimentation on the part 
of ill-trained men. Advertisers find that it pays to employ spe¬ 
cialists to write, illustrate, and set their messages in type. 

Simplicity is the keynote of present-day typography. The hur¬ 
ried reader cannot find time these days to wade through crowded, 
illegible, badly arranged news stories and advertisements; he un¬ 
consciously picks out the easy-to-read messages. 

It is important that reporters and editors make a study of type 
faces and their adaptability to different kinds of advertisements 
and news accounts. The tone of such typographical display is set 
by the combination of type faces. This is the business of the 
executives; the compositor merely follows their instructions. 

§8 

ADVERTISING 

The value of advertising. The largest percentage of revenue 
accruing to the newspaper comes from the sale of advertising 
space, the value of which depends upon the character, rating, and 
extent of circulation. Because of the importance of advertising 
every large newspaper has a separate department organized under 
the business manager and in charge of an advertising manager. 
Under this advertising manager there are in turn several depart¬ 
ments, organized according to the parts they play in bringing busi¬ 
ness to the publication. First, there is the division which caters 
to local advertising; second, the one that seeks national or for¬ 
eign advertising; and third, the classified-advertising department, 
which endeavors to build up the newspaper’s want-ad service. 

In the old days publishers took what advertising came to them, 
but today conditions have changed. Now they sell service as well 
as white space. Several metropolitan newspapers maintain exten¬ 
sive merchandising and research departments which cooperate 
with the prospective advertiser in preparing his copy and market¬ 
ing his goods. 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 


316 

Instead of soliciting the advertising in the city of publication, 
the modern newspaper endeavors to sell its services to advertisers 
of manufactured products in outside territory. To place before 
manufacturers facts about the market served by the newspaper, 
its character, and amount of certified circulation, the newspapers 
cooperate with the advertising agencies which give counsel to 
merchants and manufacturers. 

A big city daily has special representatives in other cities, so 
that information about the newspaper is readily available. These 
representatives are really national advertising solicitors. City 
advertising is sought by local advertising solicitors from mer¬ 
chants and manufacturers. 

Salesmanship through print. Perhaps the want-ad is one of the 
most effective means to gain the attention of a reader who seeks 
a position, desires to rent a room or an apartment, or is selling 
some article. Large city newspapers maintain many stations 
where want-ads may be left for publication, later to be telephoned 
to the central office. 

The growth of the department store in American cities has been 
made possible through the use of newspaper advertising. If the 
merchants used handbills instead of newspapers, they would be 
forced to pay for both printing and distribution. Even then city 
residents would not welcome a handbill, for to the average man 
or woman a handbill is something to be thrown away or dropped 
into the wastebasket. And more important for the merchant to 
consider is that the cost of the newspaper advertisement is much 
less than the cost of printing and distributing handbills. The 
newspaper, moreover, is eagerly sought by men and women; they 
know that the news of the day is as needed in their lives as food 
and clothing. 

Because of the educational value of advertising in emancipat¬ 
ing housewives from drudgery, in teaching men ways of handling 
business more efficiently, and in showing firms and corporations 
more economical methods, advertising science needs the serious 
consideration of any man or woman who plans to enter either the 
editorial or the business side of journalism. 


PRINTING, ADVERTISING, CIRCULATION 317 

§9 

CIRCULATION 

The duties of a circulation manager. After the newspaper is 
printed the next problem is to distribute a product which is, per¬ 
haps, the most perishable of manufactured goods, for nothing is so 
uninteresting as yesterday’s paper. Until recently the circulation 



THE HOME OF THE DETROIT NEWS 

Modern newspaper buildings are, at once, manufactories, efficient in the coordina¬ 
tion of their parts, and architectural symbols of the press as a social institution. 
The needs of newspapers vary from desk room for the editor and a "job shop” 
with a flat-bed press, to such a plant as that of the Detroit News, occupying a full 
city block, with nearly a third of a million square feet of floor space and approxi¬ 
mately a thousand employees 

manager of a large city newspaper was distinctly a routine man 
whose duty it was to distribute the papers to several thousand 
newsboys, carriers, and news dealers in towns within several hun¬ 
dred miles of the city of publication. Today, on the other hand, 
the circulation manager of a large newspaper is a sales manager 
on a par executive rank with the advertising manager or editor. 
Not only must he supervise the routine of distribution, but he 











3 .i8 ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 

must also endeavor to increase circulation by modern sales meth¬ 
ods. Much of the increase of circulation must come from interest¬ 
ing a greater number of people who buy newspapers at the news 
stand. It is the policy of many metropolitan papers to select 
one "high spot” of the day’s news on which a seven-column or 
eight-column banner head may be built, thus calling the passing 
pedestrian’s attention to the big sensation of the hour. 

The manager of circulation, distributing from two hundred 
thousand to five hundred thousand copies within a few hours, 
must also give his attention to successive editions. Earlier edi¬ 
tions in the afternoon field are principally for outlying districts; 
editions coming out about noon are for home distribution by car¬ 
rier as well as for street sales; later editions are almost entirely 
for street sales. 

On a morning paper, where the first editions come off shortly 
after nine o’clock at night, the distribution is largely for sub¬ 
scribers and news dealers in the surrounding territory. Later edi¬ 
tions are for carrier distribution and street sales. 

Distributing papers within the city. Most dailies operate two 
systems of city distribution. In the first scheme the newspaper 
itself owns and controls the carrier routes and is able to list its 
subscribers’ names; in the second, as is true of Chicago, city and 
surburban districts are allotted to news agencies which own the 
routes within their districts. Under the latter system the news¬ 
paper still controls the mail subscriptions. The advantage of the 
official-carrier system is that it provides economy of distribution, 
as several newspapers cooperate in having the same official dis¬ 
trict carriers, under whom the newsboys work. 

Even under the district-carrier system the modern newspaper 
must have expensive equipment to convey the finished product to 
railway stations, interurban lines, and city districts. Fleets of 
motor trucks must be maintained. 

Wherever possible, papers are distributed to outlying towns as 
baggage or express, for in many instances it is cheaper to send 
papers in this way than by mail. 

If a number of papers are going by mail to one outlying town, 
they are wrapped in one package, and addressed to the post office, 
where the package can be opened and distribution made by carrier. 


PRINTING, ADVERTISING, CIRCULATION 319 

The sales power of news. The circulation manager must know 
what the public wants in order to sell the product the editors have 
made. He must know how many people are in the territory he 
serves, together with some knowledge of their habits and customs. 
In a big sensational story on the front page, such as the news of 
the failure of several brokerage firms, the circulation manager 
must know that more copies can be sold in the sections where the 
investing public lives. 

If there is a contagious disease in the packing-house district, 
more copies must be sent out for street sales in that district, be¬ 
cause the presence of disease in the neighborhood makes it news 
of great pertinency. 

Three tests of circulation. Circulation is the corner stone of 
newspaper success. Without circulation there could be no profit¬ 
able advertising, for advertising returns are always based on the 
amount of space sold per circulation unit. Circulation is meas¬ 
ured by its length, breadth, and thickness. The influence of the 
medium upon its subscribers’ interest, as reflected in its news, 
service, appearance, and contents, as well as its political and 
business policy, may be termed the thickness of circulation. The 
length of circulation is determined by the number of net paid sub¬ 
scribers, while the breadth of circulation is determined by the 
extent of territory over which the product is distributed. 

To check false circulation statements the Audit Bureau of Cir¬ 
culation, a cooperative organization whose membership is made 
up of newspaper and business-paper publishers, advertising agen¬ 
cies, and national advertisers, was organized in Chicago in 1914, 
and has since exerted a powerful influence in placing all news¬ 
papers on a more efficient and trustworthy business basis. 


CHAPTER XI 


THE COMMUNITY NEWSPAPER AND ITS PROBLEMS 

The country paper still alive. Community or country newspaper 
publishing offers an attractive and lucrative field for those who 
are competent to fill the peculiar niche of the community news¬ 
paper editor and publisher. It is a field that is not passing, as 
many people imagine, and will not pass so long as the country 
town exists in the nation. 

Of the approximately twenty-three thousand newspapers in the 
United States not more than one tenth are to be found in the 
larger cities. The rest are small-town papers—many of them 
small, crude, and poorly printed; but week by week these organs 
reach districts where city journals make little inroad, bringing the 
news and comment of most vital interest to the localities they 
serve. No paper among them is so insignificant as not to have 
some share in the general uplift of the community, a thing which 
cannot always be said of the metropolitan newspaper. Crimes 
and scandals are glossed over or subordinated, and first-page 
"spreads” that reflect upon private life and public honesty rarely 
find conspicuous place in the columns of the community press. 
These papers may be narrow in their range and circumscribed in 
their appeal, but their power is potent and their province secure. 

The sphere of the community paper is entirely different from 
that of the metropolitan journal. It is the church of every hamlet 
and village, representing the intimate house-to-house life of the 
township or county. It deals with events and happenings the 
city paper neglects or scoffs at. It is in no sense a competitor of 
the urban press and cannot be driven from its field by sensational 
city dailies given the advantages of rural free delivery. 

The small town rules America (writes an editorial writer in the 
Omaha Bee), because, instead of being a place of hotels, restau¬ 
rants, and amusements, it is a place for normal living—where men 

320 


COMMUNITY NEWSPAPER AND ITS PROBLEMS 321 

walk home to lunch from their offices and mow their own front 
lawns and weed their back-yard gardens and bid their neighbors 
across either fence the time of the day; where they not only live in 
today, but remember yesterday and plan for tomorrow; where 
families and communities retain, cherish, and transmit traditions. 
There beats the heart of America. 

The editor and his work. Into this environment of journalistic en¬ 
deavor comes the editor-publisher. He is recognized in the commu¬ 
nity as one of its big men by reason of his strategic position as the 
conductor of the town newspaper. Concerning him William Allen 
White, famous as the editor of the Emporia (Kansas) Gazette , 
remarks in his book "In Our Town”: 

He has given all his life to his town; he has spent thousands of dollars 
to promote its growth; he has watched every house on the town-site rise, 
and has made an item in his paper about it; he has written up the weddings 
of many of the grandmothers and grandfathers of the town; he has chron¬ 
icled the birth of their children and children’s children. The old scrapbooks 
are filled with kind things he has written. Old men and old women scan 
these wrinkled pages with eyes that have lost their lustre, and on the rusty 
clippings pasted there fall many tears. In this book many a woman reads 
the little verse below the name of a child whom only she and God re¬ 
member. In some other scrapbook, a man, long since out of the current 
of life, reads the story of his little triumph in the world; in the family 
Bible is a clipping—yellow and crisp with years—that tells of a daughter’s 
wedding and the social glory that descended upon the house for that one 
great day. 

Qualities necessary for success. The country editor must be a 
man of many parts, of strong common sense, of business acumen, 
and of agreeable personality if he is to make his paper successful. 
Not only must he feel the needs of his community and have a live 
interest in the world about him, but he must also consider the 
bread-and-butter proposition of collecting subscriptions, paying 
his printers’ bills, and making his expenditures procure for his 
paper the best possible value for its readers. He needs to have 
both a broad education and plenty of gumption; he must be able 
to write an editorial with one hand and to direct the business end 
of his paper with the other when occasion demands. The com¬ 
munity newspaper has no room for the loafer. It demands energy, 


322 ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 

grit, and resourcefulness. Much depends upon the man behind 
the paper. He need not be a printer; indeed, many of the most 
successful publishers of community papers are not printers. 

But while the success of the community paper depends largely 
upon the ability and personality of the editor, it should not be 
forgotten that other factors enter into the proposition. Different 
communities need different treatment. The kind of newspaper 
that will succeed in one field will fail in another. In one com¬ 
munity the merchants welcome the opportunity to advertise 
through newspaper columns, in another they must be taught the 
value of newspaper advertising, and the editor and publisher must 
have the requisite salesmanship and ingenuity to do the teaching. 

Choosing the field. Can any suggestions be offered that will 
guide the prospective country editor in the selection of a field for 
his newspaper ? The experience of country publishers is the only 
sure test. Many have discovered that, as a general rule, a good 
farming community, not too close to a large city, is preferable to 
a manufacturing community, where trade is apt to fluctuate. This 
does not necessarily mean that a rural community always has the 
advantage; it does mean that an agricultural district made up 
for the most part of native stock noted for its intelligence and 
thrift is more often a better field than a foreign population en¬ 
gaged in the mill or factory and having little permanent home 
interest. 

Not only must the prospective small-town publisher survey his 
field carefully, but he must estimate the force of competition. Is 
the locality overstocked with papers? Is the town large enough 
to pay dividends ? Is the population on the increase ? As a gen¬ 
eral rule, experience has shown it the wiser plan to buy a run-down 
paper of some standing and with an established hold on the com¬ 
munity and to build it up, rather than attempt the rather haz¬ 
ardous experiment of starting a new paper handicapped by a 
meager subscription list and the expense of new equipment. 

This, however, is not always the case. Many communities may 
be found that are without a newspaper and in which one is 
wanted. Such a condition is especially true of sections of the 
West, where inducements are offered for the establishment of 
local papers. In such towns the banks or commercial bodies will 


COMMUNITY NEWSPAPER AND ITS PROBLEMS 323 

assist in financing the enterprise and in guaranteeing support. 
The names of these towns frequently may be secured from the 
supply houses that are selling to the community papers, as they 
are in touch with conditions through the territories they cover. 

Every newspaper publisher must meet the problem of equip¬ 
ment in his own way. There are comparatively few localities 
today in which can be found newspapers printed on the old Wash¬ 
ington hand presses. New drum-cylinder presses may be pur¬ 
chased as low as $1000, and these presses will do a good grade of 
newspaper and poster printing. For a slightly larger amount two- 
revolution cylinder presses may be purchased which will answer 
for newspapers and a fine grade of book and job printing. 

For the weekly paper with a limited amount of typesetting, a 
typesetting machine is not needed, and the installation of such 
a machine will frequently prove a financial burden rather than a 
help. When interest on the investment, cost of repairs, up-keep, 
and operation are taken into consideration and compared with the 
small amount of typesetting needed in the production of the paper, 
it will be found that the type can be set by hand at less expense 
than by machine. Where the amount of composition needed will 
keep two machines busy all the time, then a typesetting machine 
can be considered a valuable asset to the office. 

The enterprising country editor should dispose of the old- 
fashioned type. He may exchange the old metal at the type 
foundry, receiving for it new type in various sizes of a popular 
series. His service to advertisers will improve, and job printing, 
upon which he depends for a part of his revenue, will speak for 
itself because of its up-to-dateness and attractiveness. Good 
equipment counts tremendously. It is poor economy to keep an¬ 
tiquated type and machinery; poor economy to waste time finding 
mislaid letters in a depleted font of type or in trying to utilize a 
bent piece of brass rule. It is a loss of time and good money in 
the long run, and the paper is certain to suffer financially. 

Making the paper attractive. The small-town newspaperman 
should remember that he has a commodity to sell. If he is suc¬ 
cessful, he has learned, as does the wise grocer, to make his goods 
attractive to the buyer. Utilizing battered type of all sizes and 
styles, with no attempt to suit these heads to the story in hand or 


NORTHFIELD NEWS 


VOL. XLVI 


NORTHFIELD, MINNESOTA. FRIDAY, JUNE 9, 1922 


NUMBER 23 


LOCAL FLOUR MILL 
MAY RE-OPEN SOON 


Northfield Colleges To 

Award Diplomas Tuesday 


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y».t iw ixrtiwt ■r^T •:»<-! a, Mr , 

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IBX? 


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PSSAI**, Jpvo x 


Sib A® Oamao** Atitu-A 
Cby. 


NorfhfirW People 


Town ond Country Celebrate at 
9th Annual Community* Picnic 


rouoet Sto41byr. vOA4 km.*.' » 4*njT-~ 

o »0 « Uftt «*t . ♦ 


iiwoitag. ip «H T*'S* *fU . m 


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t-»x>« -84 iim-titoto 
i-o a oifirit iattof,* 

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i -rts o4W 


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IW Mila Stbun kill puts w*v ! t m*z£*** % ******* * ne iAoas- » Imp: Menai%M VcwtoWb^ *>BU 
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lo Kromt finiia-rt-en renaftilr llojjr 


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Vottio*." frt'-*s»ie-’ by to* cSftdMB "f'«» . ■r 98 -*!**«i to* bf*nt o*vT 

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i <"U|i flMfoor W. W. fn, she i» 
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«bpi*e L eat ibn U *%» ntnvnaUy 


flp*m»k>, »*« i>* t*»m«n *n»r ** i -Mtoran WMa >4 gttt Him w* fii«tos *i *ns ih»><>"®‘ *• 

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u * Aifirmi lo r»iurt> to Nor’b* bti tooeeiH^,**,.^ la 0 A*-»* *1 "*• iM'-'i W*t*. toan nul ru—tt-p to 
«h"«l feotamtipr J , : i^jeiin vm-r p’ni.o Us l- * pi wt. ►*di*< t» »*»4 Ut* **mi!>J»i «sh*I »td 

SU-* VturaHOP tin* slfl tnar* Meat ; tWaatn* ii*a**nt:—. ia -oU*-« "at«r i >'s»»ni ai Biubinea* ,s *b4» <tvav> 
•tap on * «nor v* tar-nm x* io»t.l» fn*j »!*.***» ,v> t.-to* • 

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nil) fs»* 8WV4*.- <.n Ili* MpJ**l|.. fbollM.j 4 WJ v*5»ny fWhunrs fefito u.*‘tor*“ti«ilr tn i*. *.v.» tie* v'a’ti* 

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«« ol V*b»*4sM.e Ni-x-B nf tTi (faisrraftj v" J t*4o «b l **■•* tin- <*4> 


C-*t**,t*i f-vAAn tt mi»m» »l*U <;** 

I K-ilie* Kvt Ti’anV. 

ttu frrol*. M«atat>. RK-r*ll*E , 1 < IA> 
ftB-tot-rs s*n rst*f.-»«urtsl Vfonun* 

!*mfc *sah-r-it is IBr <**rs.b«* ujem * 

v» <*.mu*..an* v.ifttniA lu-Hnj- *»* * , 

:•«* MUtoaCttllNTb. lA.'rnoorV**.-;;'^ ^ " -'l ‘-«U..,1M> 

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S.< T ..- r>* 8«UJ *1 fi 1» OCI-.X 0.^0 *“ U "*•'*'n* >«. .*««♦ 

*uv k*,. a*. » -.-tojau, ^ »> *• 

*«.-.<» oaiup-M. MB*» Itsbr tH-ra 

at <k»*fma* ..f «wn*i8iX4ftl. au^terf «£>«EN 4 to l(ave. 

j« ta*wb><r it rim#- by -lab caa .a ; 

,*".tv.. 4 Mur.* ttp*K on4 trait-*-— ir^nis* Carlema *-to / ea*vr 4jl**o* 

i t i'v iJisf *>-i fi*..*ro4 ftp coiops e-ram-'s-j. 

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At lb* ■ysAln.’A HproSttk to* . -■ I to*, o 1*0 to •- .1 s.tb *1. .^'r ^.rj 

'*f *to li. W MlA-r os^t *01 10. «;«j»!uO<* I»tv, i OSM.B' VI ll*> rt,i 

I umr J n.w -jnf *•».<: *V-, • •' janOiB.--' V- ion*.<■ to*, r.-m, .-.1 .. 

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««ta uf it <n ** In M' Mto-t «,« t..—t '4'c!V*«- at KaDitooto.m. V’l 

tip <«sh 71 - fck« atotop sBiofi j Mi U a. a .n.v in CsrV'ofl ;ei»u 
,-a.fR ins-jut* <m**8 .**.j tus IV* ii.*l j*.<**n ai” INm lbs- Itotre**!,* *r. U 
|> urn a luum nr !*•' "tsb 
I* I and b«.xw* >b* 

Jibs*. «-Tfi;a4|*- jt,***.*- Ik.- -'At, iVrUitot fo.nl'y, lito.nVl’tp s, « ppi 

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8<«*-> nt rty awJirabt*. ter a—nat*-- j <j i*v» i-.d*«»ojt *u-, u* vcuOssu ui 
,V.8 %ot* jn —*v-t Pf rtf 3.- S.- \ si'.n IN. Ituton . I, I*, p 
JiPto "-aiqwto. A l**OUi Mas* 1* 81 tosr-r.-"»r«Bre.v « lb- l *.iv,—*,r .s 
j.4 a'»«M V (4* M*e» s-Ptottao.j.- 'V’-.H. lAMittosti <*»«,. -*yp 
jlo' r* lie BMfi *v«*Ur at-O.Ti: [ I, . 0 <o*«»m(. t*»j* 


.-t lus «** li.nl j * earn av- liyoi lie ttojirtnur «r . U- 
n Vi« *S . m Lwo Htnl 1 'Ill.la fAt*A>or fcpr,. * 0 * b *401 

■U*t k»- rt» S« „»e pi It, M*UI .<uUl'» itl. toH* . , .*f too 

1 I Vo -.< 0-4 ‘ l'»rl*ii»t to.nby, l.u ..Vl'ir s* « >*8 


AN ATTRACTIVE SHOP WINDOW OF NEWS 

Every story on the front page of this issue of the Northfield News is of a local 
slant. This paper is published on the principle that people are interested pri¬ 
marily in themselves and in their own community. It mirrors local events and 
local happenings, and does not pay much attention to news of the outside world 





































































rrr.Wtn Wtf&y 


J 


COUNTY 


:■ ■>w-wwowc.o V. w-V* 

VOL. T, Xu. 20. 


' 


CHAUTAUQUA 
TO RETURN TO 
CITY IN 1923 

Business Girls Chib Signs the 
Catract to Bring Tta Bad 
Tar Feurth Time 

m nmk. m m 

Nvw* TWt Ch»«rta«K|UA W<mU 
Return VV»* Or#* ted (Jy 
Leud 


HARIETTA, Qv pftUtA, Wg | iNI&t>A vTmaT Tt.T »*» 


12 Pages 


'! Speaks Here Thursday LOCAL FARM 

BANK WILL 
MAKE LOANS 

Repia! Bad Rt&iy to baa Oar 
Fsraro Absut $ 50,000 Dat- 
ag the Seit litres ftyutis 


r’r<d :p.: izM j>eh yeak 


O A, 

, J 

■rUv J*X*y >.*y 

¥<*♦ fe <■>>*«> * y 


• <?*»<•>¥ ;■>>: ¥:» tWnJ 

: >X!>:<:y* *fe <lyt. 

<¥ fly, Mfrvx •« X. W, 

let tOfcWfttttM*- -Otfit.yri 
&**»<*£ *> <i>v Mari 
Ixi- 8*8 iff *ix •>:' :UW 
•itfe 48 ':*t:«xffet. <“■»¥»• 

»*¥ t*> w* 



£ ' un ; A r'o e c V,ce ' Pre n ~ NATIONAL bank 

of merchants <§: Farmers Banki jg 


W«lt*K»uv{» MarLotu Man t* 
to kw-.ftortadtle Po¬ 
rt* ion With Bank 


<\Vu; 6<jnfc Officia l | j 


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W,-> A-wfautt *>-»-,> (<f ?{££ *4!' ** ***** W •*** *'« 

i«fe ■xXtx.fifA x x* » x * Tx oimKixf x,y k :• H*? ' * * *'<**"»>>*> «ft to M 

« •'•>:»* <xx». sax jtrew-ry <x« 


Application* An to Oo Mode 
t<» BexxtAtil Awtr*y. 
Sc*«rrt ttry 




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Paving goimi v: 

DOWN ON POW¬ 
DER SPRINGS ST. 

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R. P. 

SPEAKS HERE 
ON TOMORROW 

'Jmm S^iash-Asericafi War 
Scro t»S?e Free iectsrest 
M fefet Church 

L»*htc«» Y«*r* in Navyj E<#t>l 
in Cettgrvx*; Nnw on ' 
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- - BiG CLASS WILL 

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GRADUATE FROM 
■M.R3* FRIDAY!^: 


- WX* 

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(Mtx-fvfti *«:<.»« !* taaax iittantx 

sank, sao <Ay (089r*t>*)i'*>x( Mcft- 
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CLUBPOaOPENS^ 

ON NPT MONDAY 

Jmpjr.vf'jnt'Oty 


Tx* ^*»x, s* »tL •■<*« 

Vttfi »:W «*» rAXi -fi-softer, ■<*-: 

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THE OLYMPIAN 
OFF THE PRESS 
MONDAY MORNING 

Annual in tk« sixth SfeK-.fc 
V<>iuBv.' to lit- PrmlactMi l>r 
the }1i£h*ScbfKf! 


Loba! H<srh School & >id* Oat 
iaazf&fi Clntvf in tk> His- 
tort of Sv-ijc*:- 


tmk , xf.x6ti.vanf t.xnt 


Mi-M. 


M >y;t4;)ft, ) fx-.i .. *. v-wxyj™**-* 

‘Xx»t **&»» M/«: yf <# , , J .,> 4 x 4 . j** KAtiwxft f»/>9 t,xv rfy»»s 


ORGANIZED HERE 

few feuh tu Bare. 3 Capul d! 
STOO.OBG and Surras ^ 
SIS. 800 to Start 


R»«k**v, TVwrt C*w«pany of Al¬ 
lan to to Bo It* Finan¬ 
cial Agent 


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aUB MEMBERS 
ARE ASKED TO 
MEET TUESDAY 


It&pfirtus} t , 0«!y.Rwax Matte w 
Ar*- r» Come t<i th*» Alton- 
*>n» of Member* ^ 

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■PB OTPP Wav* j Ktv*> 

»•* «n**r- 

♦y Stncn L«*t Year •»>:-*» " *• • - 

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!«<*< ».» mi mw««4 » « i' ^ >>* 1 . vwotoo-i 

«f*X* <* fix- nan w.-tarr.. tin tarry 


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W»y *9X9x*n<d tr*. Naitftfmt ftrf,n4k*> , 

’•*n#*x ( I v.rtrfxx fti-rftxO lift, wont *| 


ST. JAMES CHURCH 


RED MEN ARE 

CROW INC 

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-Tcf.*ft<e ,l>"f(.x* Lit «•• .ftntWfty (« 
y»ft>» >« fftxr 8 t» yex.il e.xOB* XHVUA. 

MEMORIAL DAY 
PROGRAM RILL 
OP INTEREST 

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IiK^ PHYSICIAN 
HIGHLY RULSED 

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-ft to m iftertiaw :,<yi :,< it nW:e. (GROWTH OF THE SMYRNA 

SAPFtSTSUNOAY SCHOOL 

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Read This Paper 


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The Cobh County Times 

- Mere Noa for tAg Reader 

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PRESSROOM FOREMAN 

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ANOTHER INTERESTING NEWS DISPLAY 

The modern small-community newspaper is as alert as its big brother in the city. 
This front page of the Cobb County Times is bright, newsy, and well made up. 
The stories are distinctly local, well written, and played up with good headlines 

and pictures, but without sensationalism 













































































































326 ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 

to arrange them in any sort of systematic balance, results in an 
unattractive first page. The editor who spends a little time in 
making his first page artistic by the use of clean, clear type, sup¬ 
plemented by pictures and headlines, and who refuses to com¬ 
mercialize it by the insertion of advertisements, is making a strong 
bid for popularity. 

How can this attractiveness be secured? First, it can be 
achieved by the selection of good, readable series of type to be 
used as head letter for the various stories. This is a subject that 
few country editors study, yet it is one of much importance. Each 
item that goes into the paper, be it trivial or important, should 
carry a head to direct the reader. For the more important stories 
a 30-point condensed letter set in two lines, with liberal white 
space at each end, followed by a three-line or four-line inverted 
pyramid in lower case, appeals to many head-writers. For the less 
important write-ups a one-line head, followed by a three-line one 
in smaller type, will be found serviceable, as will also a break line 
in some good pica. In most offices the editor has a style card of all 
the heads employed, each designated by a number, so that it takes 
little time to select and write the caption. Few community edi¬ 
tors feel that the first page should proclaim sensations in circus 
type sprawled all over the page. A little variety in the way of 
a two-column head for an unusually important story, or other 
change warranted by the subject in hand, does very well, especi¬ 
ally as a means of balanced make-up, but standardized styles of 
type and headings will usually be found more satisfactory. 

Once the stories are headed, what arrangement shall be adopted 
for the columns? Shall articles be jumbled together with no at¬ 
tempt at a definite plan, or shall the editor place the day’s most 
important stories in the outside columns to set the tone for the 
rest of the page? Most editors will agree that the latter is the 
better way. Following this, fill in the stories according to their 
news value, setting one against the other until the eye approves. 
The result will not be hodgepodge. Its orderliness will invite 
attention and grip interest. A cartoon will also assist in giving 
distinction to the first page. No editor should neglect to print a 
few half tones from week to week. The cost is nominal; the ex¬ 
penditure brings large returns. 


COMMUNITY NEWSPAPER AND ITS PROBLEMS 327 

The writing of news. News is, of course, the backbone of success 
in newspaper publishing, but in its gathering hundreds of small¬ 
town newspapermen show their lack of training and foresight. 
When they do get a good story it is apt to be spoiled through in¬ 
ability to bring out the top feature in the "lead” and to give the 
entire episode interest and punch. If a young editor has had 
training in the exacting discipline of city journalism, he will find 
this experience of incalculable benefit. What is needed on most 
community papers is a keener zest for news and an ability to un¬ 
earth and popularize stories which thrive at the office doors. Not 
only should the editor tap all these sources himself, through con¬ 
stant association with men and women, but he should spur on his 
correspondents, urging them to find and record all unusual hap¬ 
penings. Training is essential, of course; but it is surprising what 
can be accomplished when these rural news-gatherers add enthu¬ 
siasm to experience. A-subscription to the paper and stamped 
envelopes for their letters (perhaps, also, a small remuneration for 
each column of printed correspondence) will repay them for their 
efforts. To show appreciation of the good work of these volunteer 
news-gatherers, the editor may at Christmas time send them a 
year’s subscription to some magazine as a gift, or invite them to a 
correspondents’ picnic in the summer. Once these letters are ar¬ 
ranged under a suitable department head, attractively led by the 
important gleanings of the week, the newspaper has done much 
to interest its rural subscribers, by far the largest and most re¬ 
sponsive group on its list. This likewise holds true of the small 
daily. In all such work the importance of promptness of service 
should be emphasized. 

Recording agricultural interests. Agriculture lies at the base of 
all material prosperity in the United States. Every large city de¬ 
pends upon the farmer for its foodstuffs; to the smaller town the 
relationship is all the more intimate. The community paper, 
therefore, that neglects the farm and farmer is not giving adequate 
service to its readers, nor can it excuse itself by the smug philos¬ 
ophy that it is a town newspaper. It should keep an eye upon the 
countryside as well as upon Main Street. This implies more than 
an alert corps of correspondents. Country correspondence does 
not mean mere chitchat from Cherry Ridge or Polk Grove, jottings 


328 ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 

which so many editors interpret as typical country items. There 
should be news of farming as an industry, news from the farms of 
the same sort and variety as that which is printed from town. A 
real country newspaper is almost always justified in eliminating a 
town story to make room for a live item from a farm. 

In many prosperous farming communities the average farm 
represents an investment of from $25,000 to $30,000, consider¬ 
ably more than that invested in the average business in town. 
What happens on these $30,000 farm businesses and around them 
is important—and a host of things can happen there. A pure¬ 
bred bull valued at $500 or $5000 may be brought to one farm to 
revolutionize the dairy industry of a whole neighborhood; a new 
barn, wonderfully equipped, may be erected on another; a record- 
breaking yield of grass or grain may be grown on a neglected 
field; a cow owned by a farmer may set a new milk-production 
mark for the county or state; extension workers from the state 
agricultural college may hold a meeting in a rural schoolhouse 
with a hundred farmers out to hear them. 

Farm auction sales; activities of creamery operators, stock 
shippers, or other cooperative farm organizations; diseases of 
stock or crop and methods of fighting them; tiling and farm im¬ 
provements, — all these constitute significant news for the country 
paper. The farmer wants to know these things,—not merely the 
tittle-tattle that Mrs. John Brown, wife of "our” prominent 
banker, entertained with an afternoon tea last Thursday, or that 
Miss Sallie Parks is spending the week with her brother’s family 
in Wolford Center, or that Jake Wise is down with his usual win¬ 
ter cold. The farmer and the farmer’s wife are the ones who read 
the paper from first page to last, and they have a right to get the 
news they want. 

The wise community editor, if he senses his opportunities, can 
turn many of these $25,000 business managers into his best ad¬ 
vertisers. Why should not the $25,000 farmer advertise his prod¬ 
ucts of live stock, poultry, or berries just as intelligently as the 
grocer, the baker, and the clothier. In some of the strong weeklies 
in Iowa, Illinois, and Minnesota, for instance, from 30 per cent 
to as high as 80 per cent of the advertising carried at some seasons 
of the year is purely local farm advertising. The Owatonna (Min- 


COMMUNITY NEWSPAPER AND ITS PROBLEMS 329 

nesota) Journal-Chronicle, the Madison County Democrat (Lon¬ 
don, Ohio), the Kossuth County (Iowa) Advance , the Bureau 
County Republican (Princeton, Illinois), the Nevada (Iowa) 
Evening Journal , are good examples of this specialization in 
farm advertising. The Nevada Evening Journal was one of the 
pioneer country papers in the United States to develop this sort 
of publicity. 

Printing feature material. Another important factor in the 
making of a successful country weekly is the use of good feature 
matter from week to week. How often do country editors say: 
"Nothing doing this week. No news to print.” Now, if there is 
"nothing doing,” the subscribers should never suspect it. Never 
admit that the week is dull. There are hidden sources of news in 
every community waiting the investigation of some enterprising 
news-gatherer. One community paper started an inquiry to find 
out the oldest house in the county; there were several claimants, 
and subscribers were eager to give information. Pioneers have 
entertaining reminiscences; farmers glory in bumper crops and 
prize-winning cattle; an old soldier has vivid recollections of the 
battle of Gettysburg; a business man has just returned from a 
Western trip and is full of experiences. Salt these things down. 
Then some day when news is scarce, draw on the barrel. 

There are many things the paper can print that are not local, 
but which will appeal to readers, and these things may be secured 
in various forms at but small cost. The most practical of these 
forms are newspaper plates and ready-prints. In using either of 
these the editor should utilize discretion in the selection of the 
material, and not use them as fillers. The list includes such things 
as serial stories by prominent writers, agricultural departments, 
practical household and fashion material, cartoons, comic strips, 
humorous matter, instructive articles, analysis of the news of the 
week, pictures illustrating news events, and the like. 

Larger papers secure much of their general feature material 
from newspaper syndicates, and the use of newspaper plates or 
ready-prints on the part of the community papers is but the ap¬ 
plication of the newspaper syndicate idea to their needs, offering 
to them feature material in such mechanical form as is best suited 
to their use. 


330 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 

It should never be forgotten, however, that the first stay of the 
community editor is the recording of local interests. The employ¬ 
ment of plate and ready-print service should be supplementary. 
When intelligently used these adjuncts of publishing add value 
to the paper. When they constitute the bulk of the entire week’s 
output, they cripple rather than help the newspaper as a repre¬ 
sentative news medium. 

It should be the ambition of every newspaperman to please the 
majority of his readers. If he has a large rural constituency, he 
should print a farm column, some household miscellany, a poem, a 
half-column of clipped humor, another of bright clippings from 
exchanges, a grist of school happenings, a reader’s letter box, a 
budget of neighborhood happenings gathered by the rambler on 
his trips through the county, and as many sketches of people and 
events as can be secured. This is not to the exclusion of local news, 
a field in which the community paper is supreme. The employing 
of localized feature stories bearing directly on the life of the town 
and county is certain to add patrons to the subscription list. 

Building advertising patronage. The reason so many small¬ 
town merchants do not advertise is because they do not feel the 
need of it. The real value of the newspaper as a maker of trade 
has never been pointed out to them. Jones, because he does not 
receive returns from a card bearing the information that "John 
Jones has the best stock of groceries in the town,” declares that 
advertising does not pay. It should be the business of the editor 
to show him that it does pay and to keep Jones in the paper with 
a good-sized "ad” every issue. To this end the editor should write 
the advertisements himself, if necessary, quoting prices and inviting 
inspection. Illustrations and artistic typographical display—not 
intricate rule work set off by poster type—will serve to awaken 
interest in some specific thing that can be secured at a certain time 
at a great bargain. 

The editor should make an effort to establish friendly relations 
with county officials who control legal advertising. Legal pub¬ 
licity pays well, usually one dollar per square. Notices of seasonal 
sales and the like should also be solicited, and special bargain days 
encouraged. As a rule there is little trouble during the midwinter 
holidays; most papers run into slack business during the summer. 


COMMUNITY NEWSPAPER AND ITS PROBLEMS 331 

The old conception that anything may be taken in payment for 
advertising already is in its death throes. Most editors now have 
the good sense to consign questionable propositions to the waste¬ 
basket. If an advertisement is worth a contract, it should be ac¬ 
cepted at cash rates and at a profitable margin. The acceptance of 
quack-medicine display advertising at eight or ten cents an inch 
per insertion not only lowers the good name of the paper but 
utilizes space that might be occupied by more profitable stuff. 
No editor can keep his self-respect by giving space to cheap-jacks. 

Some years ago the National Editorial Association drew up 
a charge per advertising inch, based on the paper’s circulation. 
It deserves the close study of every man who wants to make 
advertising pay. Note these figures: 

For 500 or less circulation, 20 cents. 

For 1000 or less circulation, 25 cents. 

For 1500 or less circulation, 30 cents. 

For 2000 or less circulation, 35 cents. 

For 2500 or less circulation, 40 cents. 

For 3000 or less circulation, 43 cents. 

For 3500 or less circulation, 46 cents. 

For 4000 or less circulation, 49 cents. 

For 4500 or less circulation, 52 cents. 

For 5000 or less circulation, 55 cents. 

Building a subscription list. Some of these considerations may 
also be applied to subscriptions. It takes tireless energy to keep 
a subscription list intact and to increase it. Subscriptions do not 
multiply by chance. The first requisite is to print a paper that 
people want to read and for which they are willing to pay. 

The editor should see to it that a solicitor is on the road at least 
once a week, stopping at all the farmhouses, and even in the ham¬ 
lets and villages, in the effort to secure subscriptions. It pays, as 
hundreds of successful publishers will attest. Unpaid subscrip¬ 
tions should not be carried indefinitely. Luckily the drastic ac¬ 
tion of the post-office department has reduced considerably these 
deadhead subscribers, and every businesslike editor should see to 
it that only good names get into his card index. If the paper is 
worth reading, it is worth paying for at a respectable price. Few 
up-to-date editors believe in dollar or even dollar-and-a-half week- 


332. ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 

lies. Why should not the publisher meet the demands of the times 
and issue his paper at a profitable rate, stopping it promptly on the 
expiration of the subscription? Many editors need to put the 
right cash value on the service they give. 

It is shortsighted policy to cheapen a paper by offering pre¬ 
miums, by engaging in voting contests, or by putting it on the 
bargain counter in combination with other papers. 

Counting the profits. Approved business methods should be 
adopted by a young man just starting his newspaper career. Since 
income from the respective departments of circulation, advertis¬ 
ing, and job printing is somewhat limited, systematic and care¬ 
ful attention must needs be given to the business of creating a 
profitable enterprise. 

Every publisher should know his paper’s exact financial condi¬ 
tion. He should operate a cost system, whereby the cost of every 
job of printing—including the newspaper—may be accurately de¬ 
termined by an estimating blank which inventories all operating 
expenses, including ink, paper, composition, labor and other items 
involved, at the same time taking account of depreciation of ma¬ 
chinery, office rent, insurance, bad bills, and increases in cost of 
production. A fair profit is also provided by the blank. The sys¬ 
tem likewise discovers leaks brought about by dissipation of 
energy, waste of time, careless figuring, poor equipment, and 
warns the editor to stop these leaks before business suffers. 

The cost system sounds the alarm to the community editor who 
has not taken time and pains to learn whether he is losing or mak¬ 
ing money. It tells him whether he is getting good return for his 
investment, whether he is building up a reserve or going into bank¬ 
ruptcy. He may be chagrined to find he is not receiving as much 
for his advertising as it costs him to put it in type. Perhaps waste 
paper and spoiled sheets are adding to his losses; perhaps his 
office machinery is poorly arranged and some of his workmen 
inefficient and lazy, perhaps unnecessary. At any rate, all guess¬ 
work is eliminated by the cost system. 

In brief, there are only three ways for an editor to make a 
profit: (i) produce a paper that his community wants to read; 
(2) sell the paper at a fair price; (3) get advertising at a good 
margin of profit. 


COMMUNITY NEWSPAPER AND ITS PROBLEMS 333 

A strong editorial policy. The editorial page in the local paper 
is important. Some editors fail to realize this fact. It is here 
that the editor has an unexampled opportunity to make himself 
felt as a potent influence in the promotion of good citizenship, 
good roads, good schools, good farming, just as it is the duty 
of the newspaper to stand squarely on moral questions and to 
battle for the best interests of its supporting community. People 
as a whole sustain a large-hearted newspaperman of courageous 
convictions and unimpeachable integrity. The editorial conduct 
of a newspaper offers abundant opportunity to young college men 
with social vision and to metropolitan reporters endowed with 
leadership and a zeal for public service. 

It is a wise policy for the small-town editor to get into politics, 
but he should never be enslaved by the machine. He should 
learn to indorse men and policies, not worn-out party platforms. 
He should take a real part in uplifting the community, in coopera¬ 
tion with other public-spirited citizens and institutions. The real 
editor is called upon to unify and vocalize his community. 

No finer workaday creed for a community editor has ever been 
devised than that written by M. V. Atwood of the Extension Di¬ 
vision, New York State College of Agriculture, Cornell Univer¬ 
sity. It reads: 


A Country Editor’s Creed 

I believe in my job. 

I believe that running a good country newspaper which serves and rep¬ 
resents its community is as worthy as running the biggest metropolitan 
daily. Because of my belief : 

I shall at all times be fair to everyone in my community, expecting fre¬ 
quently to be charged with being unfair. 

I shall not discriminate against the person who does not advertise in my 
paper or who does not buy his printing of me. 

I shall not be afraid to champion the poor man’s cause for fear of the 
wrath of the rich man. 

Nor shall I be afraid to stand by the rich man when he is right, for fear 
of being charged with having sold out to him. 

I shall temper justice with mercy. My columns shall not shout aloud to 
my community the shame of individual or family when that shouting can 
render my community no good. 


334 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 


On the other hand, I shall not condone evildoing in high places lest by 
publishing the evil deed to my community my pocketbook shall thereby 
suffer. 

I shall scan what goes into my advertising columns as closely as that 
which goes into my news columns, realizing that every column of my paper 
speaks of me. 

I shall always remember that politics is not a game but a responsibility, 
and when I write I shall make sure what motive is behind my utterances. 

I shall not hate my competitor, but remember he is human and likely 
to err the same as I. 

I shall belong to, pay my dues to, and attend regularly, my local, state 
and national editorial associations. 

I shall charge what my work is worth, realizing that by so doing I can 
serve my community best. 

I shall respect and honor my profession, believing that it is a high calling. 

In brief, I shall conduct my newspaper like a gentleman and a Christian, 
realizing that no ministry is more sacred than that to which I have 
been called. 


APPENDIX A 


DICTIONARY OF WORDS AND PHRASES COMMON 
TO NEWSPAPERS 

A. Use a before words beginning with a consonant sound, expressed or 
implied; as, "a horse,” "a useful book.” Use infrequently in opening a 
paragraph of a newspaper story. Use an before words beginning with h 
in which the h is not sounded; also before words beginning with vowels. 
A often implies that the person or object is not well known. 

A distance of. Not necessary. "The man fell 50 feet” is enough. 

A dollar per diem. Latin objectionable. Say "a dollar a day.” 

A number of. Not sufficiently definite. Specify. 

About 500 were present. Omit about and spell out 500. 

Above. Incorrectly used in speaking of numbers or measurements. Say 
foregoing when referring to statements, pages, and the like. 

Accord. Rather pompous. Give is simpler and stronger. 

Actual photographs. All photographs are actual. 

Administer. Used with reference to medicine, governments, or oaths. 
Blows are not administered, but dealt. 

Aged 50 years. Preferable to 50 years of age. 

Aggravate. Means "to increase”;’ not synonymous with irritate. 

All. Proper usage confines it to number; as, "All were present.” 

All the farther. As far as is correct. 

Allege. Not synonymous with assert. 

Allude. Do not confuse with refer. 

Almost fatally injured. Trite. Specify the injuries. 

Along this line. Worn threadbare. 

Alternative. Indicates a choice of two things. Incorrect to speak of 
"two alternatives” or "one alternative.” 

Amateur. Should not be confused with novice or apprentice. 

Ambassador, envoy, consul, minister. See the dictionary before you use 
these words. 

And. A connective. Seldom used in beginning a sentence. Proper 
usage does not recognize it before which or who , unless these words have 
preceded in the same sentence and in the same construction. 

Any one or none. Use in speaking of more than two; either and neither 
are used when speaking of only two. 

335 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 


336 

Any way, shape, or form. Lengthy and trite. 

Apiece. Do not use for persons ; say each. 

Appear, look, smells, seems, etc. Take an adjective complement. 

Appertains. Say pertains. 

Apprehend. Say arrested or captured. 

Appropriate exercises. Put a little more thought on your work when you 
write a phrase like this. 

Artiste. Obsolete for artist. 

As. Can never be used in place of that. 

At the corner of. At is sufficient; as, ''At Spring and High streets,” 
unless you wish to specify the exact corner. 

At 4 o’clock. Put the hour before the day; as, "at 4 o’clock yesterday 
afternoon.” 

At length. Do not confuse with last. 

Audience. An audience hears, spectators see. 

Authoress. Say author and poet. 

Autopsy. An autopsy is performed, not held. 

Avocation. A man’s pleasure, while vocation is his business or pro¬ 
fession. 

Awful. Means "to fill with awe”; not synonymous with very or ex¬ 
tremely. 

Back of. Say behind. 

Bag. In stories of crime say capture. 

Balance. Used in connection with weights and measures and as a bank¬ 
ing term. Not synonymous with rest or remainder. 

Bank on. Use have confidence in or trust. 

Banquet. Only a few dinners are worthy the name. Do not confuse them. 

Beggars description. Trite. 

Beside; besides. The first word means "by the side of”; the second, 
"in addition to.” 

Bids fair. Worn tawdry by much use. 

Blood. Much overdone in stories of crime. Do not make unpleasant 
pictures. 

Boston (Mass.). Boston is sufficient without the state, as are also New 
York, Cleveland, Philadelphia, Pittsburgh, and names of other towns of 
similar size and importance. 

Build. Preferable to erect or construct. 

Burst. Past participal is burst, not bursted. 

But. Avoid using in sense of only and except. 

By. "A man by the name of Jones” is indefinite. Better say "a man 
named Jones” or give complete identification. 

By. Use instead of with in such sentences as "The effect was gained by 
colored lights.” 


APPENDIX A 


337 


By the use of. Often by is sufficient. 

Calculate. The word has a mathematical connotation and should not be 
used as a synonym for think, expect, presume. 

Canine. Dog will serve your purpose. 

Capital. The building is the capitol ; the city is the capital. 

Casualty. Should not be confused with disaster, accident, mishap. 

Checkered career. Trite. 

Chief magistrate. Stilted. State his official position. 

Citizens. Not a synonym for persons. 

Claim. When you mean assert, do not use claim. 

Collide. To collide both objects must be in motion. 

Color. Superfluous when naming a color; as, "the cart was red,” not 
"'the color of the cart was red.” 

Commence. Begin is shorter and stronger. 

Compared with. Use compared with in speaking of two things coming 
under the same classification; use compared to if the classes are different. 

Conclude. Not synonymous with decide. Conclude means "to finish.” 

Conflagration. Say fire or blaze unless the fire is widespread and very 
disastrous. 

Consists in. Distinguish between consists in and consists of. 

Consummation. Consult the dictionary before using. Avoid saying "The 
marriage was consummated.” 

Contribute. Rather heavy word for give. 

Convene. Delegates, not a convention, may convene. 

Cortege. Procession is better in stories of funerals, unless of a state 
ceremony. 

Couple. Used only when two things are joined, not of separate things. 

Crime. Do not use as a synonym for vice and sin. Crime is a violation 
of the law of the state; vice refers to a violation of moral law; sin is a 
violation of religious law. 

Crying need. If it is a crying need, using this phrase will not emphasize 
the fact. It is too trite and worn-out to convey much meaning. 

Dangerously. Not dangerously, but critically or alarmingly ill. 

Darky. Better say negro. 

Data. Data is plural; datum, singular. 

Date back to. Date from is better. 

Dead body. A person is not a body until he is dead. 

Death car. As old and as much used as automobile. 

Deceased. Use the man’s name or say dead. Do not use decease as 
a verb. 

Departed this life. Euphuistic for died. 

Depot. A French word that may apply to a variety of things. When 
you are speaking of a railway station, do not use depot. 


338 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 


Destroyed by fire. Why not burned ? 

Devouring element. Often used in interchange with greedy flames. 
When fire will do, say so. 

Different from. Not different than. 

Do away with. Abolish is shorter and less awkward. 

Dock. Do not confuse with pier or wharf. 

Doing as well as can be expected. Be specific. Long use has made this 
phrase ridiculous. 

Dollars. Takes a singular verb unless each dollar is thought of sep¬ 
arately. 

Don’t, doesn’t. Colloquial; permissible in newspapers. Don’t, the con¬ 
tracted form of do not belongs to I, we, you, and they, doesn’t, the con¬ 
tracted form of does not, is correctly used with he, she, it, or corresponding 
nouns. 

Dove. Should not be used for dived. 

Dull thud. Ready to be pensioned. State the fact. 

During. Often confused with in. During answers the question How 
long? in, the questions When? At what time? As, "He was in Paris 
during September”; "The telegram was received in the forenoon.” 

Effect, to cause, accomplish ; as, "He effected a great reform.” Affect, 
to have an affect on; as, "This will certainly affect the committee’s atti¬ 
tude.” The only noun is effect. 

Either, neither. Use only when speaking of two. 

Elicit. Literally, "to draw out against the will.” Used inaccurately by 
many reporters. 

Emigrant. Do not confuse with immigrant. An emigrant leaves and an 
immigrant comes in. 

Entertained lavishly. Rather like "a good time was enjoyed by all.” 

Entirely surrounded. Entirely not necessary. How else could a thing 
be surrounded ? 

Event. Should be carefully distinguished from incident, affair, occur¬ 
rence, or happening. 

Every. Sometimes inaccurately used instead of all. Cannot be applied 
to a thing which is inseparable. ‘Refers to singular antecedent and requires 
singular agreement in verb and modifying pronouns. 

Everyone. Takes a masculine singular pronoun following it. 

Exposition. Often used incorrectly for exhibit. 

Facile pen. It is an indication of a lack of one to use this term. 

Farther. Denotes distance. In other connections use further. 

Feature. Never use as a verb. 

Fewer than. Use only with numbers. In speaking of quantity use less 
than. 

First rate. Slang when used as a predicate adjective. 


APPENDIX A 


339 


Floral offering. A stock expression to be avoided. 

For. Phrases like "for three weeks” should not be overworked. 

For a period of; for the purpose of. For is sufficient. 

Former. Preferable to ex- in such expressions as "the former Judge 
Brown.” 

Forwards. Omit the final s in this word and words of like character. 
From. A person dies of, not from, a disease. 

From hence. Hence is sufficient. 

Future before him. That is where futures usually are. It is not neces¬ 
sary to specify. 

Game. Do not use in speaking of a profession, especially "the news¬ 
paper game.” 

Gentleman. An English term. Better use man. Gent is insufferably 
vulgar. 

Get. Never say "get to go”; use "be able to go.” 

Glad rags. Cheap slang. 

Graduate, as a verb. Colleges graduate, students are graduated. 

Great beyond. Its triteness needs no comment. 

Groom. Quite a different person from bridegroom. 

Gutted. Never say a fire gutted a building. 

Had. Never say "had his arm cut.” Had implies volition. 

Head over heels. Too trite to be expressive. 

Heart of the business section. Trite. 

Heart failure. The cause of all the deaths in the world. If a person 
dies of heart disease, say so. 

However. Transpose from the beginning of the sentence to the middle. 
Hung. In. stories of executions say hanged. Avoid the fatal noose. 
Hurled into eternity. Strenuous circumlocution for hanged. 

Hymeneal altar. Florid substitute for chancel. 

I. Never use except in a signed article. 

Immense. Carelessly used. Literally, "what cannot be measured.” 
Immoral. Not synonymous with unmoral. 

In. In a street is preferable to on a street. Houses are part of the street 
in which people live; beggars live on the streets. 

In or into. In means the place where ; into, the end of motion. 

In good shape. Say well. 

In this city. Mention the name of the town. 

Inaugurate. Implies solemn ceremonies, such as inducting into office. 
Begin is a better and simpler word for ordinary purposes. 

Individual, as a noun. Indefinite. Give the person’s name, or refer to 
your subject more specifically. 

Indorse. Not synonymous with approve. 

Infinite. Different from great, large, vast. 


340 ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 

Injured. Used in speaking of persons or animals, never of things, which 
are damaged. 

Inside of. Of redundant. 

Interred. Use buried. 

Invited guests. Guests usually are invited, so omit the adjective. 

It goes without saying. Trite. 

Its. Discriminate between its and it’s. 

Japs. Say Japanese. 

Justice. Do not use for judge unless you are speaking of the presiding 
officer in a police court, court of justice, or supreme court. 

Kiddies. Say children. 

Kind. This kind, not these kind. 

Kind of. Use somewhat. 

Lady. Use woman unless you are drawing social distinctions. 

Large and enthusiastic audience. Sadly overworked. 

Last. Not synonymous with latest. 

Leave. Often confused with let. Leave, as a verb, must have an object 
unless used with the meaning "to depart.” 

Leave go. Let go is the proper phrase. 

Leaves a widow. How can he ? Better say wife. 

Leg. When you mean leg do not say limb. Specify which leg. 

Less than. Used in speaking of quantity ; fewer than is used for numbers. 
Lie. Present tense. Lay, past tense; lain, past participle. 

Like. Never used as a conjunction. 

Line. Do not use for business. 

Live at. Better than stop at. 

Loafer. Use of this word is uncalled for and questionable. 

Locked up. Unnecessary in stories of arrest. 

Lurid. Incorrectly used for bright, glaring ; literally, pale, gloomy, 
ghastly. 

Majority. The lead over all others ; not to be confused with plurality, 
which indicates the lead over one other. 

Marry. The woman is married to the man by the clergyman. 
Materially. Not synonymous with largely or almost. 

Mathematics. Singular. 

Matter. Use infrequently. 

Mean. A dog is vicious, not mean. Mean is lowly or base. 
Memorandum. Singular. Memoranda, plural. 

Minister. Be careful in using ecclesiastical terms. Distinguish between 
minister , a term used in Protestant churches, and priest, used in Catholic 
churches. Every preacher is not a pastor; a pastor has a church, a min¬ 
ister may not. 

’Most. Baby talk for almost. 


APPENDIX A 


34i 

Mr. To be used when the Christian name is not given, otherwise omitted 
except in formal writing, as in the society columns. 

Mrs. The title of the husband should not be used with the abbreviation 
Mrs.—" Mrs. Dr. Smith.” Give the full name, " Mrs. William Dana Smith.” 

Murderous. Do not confuse with deadly or dangerous. 

Mutual. Means reciprocal, not common. 

Myself. Must always be used with /, never alone. 

Named after. Named for is correct. 

Nee. Give only the last name, " Mrs. Williams nee Lester.” 

Negress. Say "negro woman.” 

Never in the history of. The expected phrase. Find another. 

Nice. Means exact, not agreeable or pleasant. 

No good. Say worthless. 

Nom de plume. If you must use the French for pen name, or pseudonym, 
say nom de guerre. 

Notorious. Very different from famous. 

Nowhere near. Not nearly is correct. 

Occur. Anything occurs when accident or chance enters into it, as a 
wreck, an explosion. Events take place by arrangement, as funerals or 
weddings. 

Off of. Off is sufficient. 

Old adages. There are no new adages. 

On. Unnecessary in referring to days of the week; as, "on next Tues¬ 
day.” Say "July 25” not "July 25th”; conversely, "the twenty-fifth of 
July.” 

On the part of. Why not use by ? 

One. Weakens the sentence when used, for example, as, "The case is a 
difficult one.” 

Only. Often misplaced in the sentence. Place it as near as possible to 
the word it modifies. 

Out loud. Aloud is the word to use. 

Over. Not to be used when more than is meant; as, "They made over 
$50 at the concert.” 

Parties. Often used when persons are meant. 

Partly completed. Has no meaning. The words are contradictory. 

Past. Not synonymous with last ; as, the "past two weeks.” The past 
week is not necessarily the last week. 

People. Do not confuse with persons. People refers to population. 

Per cent. Do not say " large per cent ” when you mean " large proportion.” 

Perform. A musician plays the piano ; he does not perform on the piano. 

Planned on. On is unnecessary. 

Plead. Pleaded is the past tense. 

Politics. Singular. 


342 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 


Practically. Not synonymous with virtually. Very different from almost. 
Practically implies action. 

Preventive. Not preventative. 

Principle. Always a noun. Principal is generally an adjective. 

Prone on the hack. Impossible. Prone means "lying on the face.” 
Supine means "lying on the back.” 

Provided. Not providing he will go. 

Public. Public is, not public are. 

Purchase. Buy is shorter and stronger. 

Put in. You occupy, devote or spend time, never put in time. 

Put in an appearance. Appear is simpler and better. 

Quite a few. A considerable number is better. 

Raise. Do not confuse with increase. 

Rarely ever. Say "hardly ever.” 

Real. Not interchangeable with very. 

Received an ovation. Well worn. 

Recipient. Stilted form for "Mrs. Smith received many gifts.” 
Recuperate. Recover is simpler and stronger. 

Reliable. Say trustworthy. 

Remains. Say body. 

Remember of. Of redundant. 

Render. Lard and judgments, not songs, are rendered. 

Reside. Live is shorter and stronger. 

Retire. What’s the matter with go to bed or leave ? 

Rev. Title should be used in speaking of ministers. If full name is not 
known, say "the Rev. Mr. Harris.” 

Reverts back. Back is unnecessary. 

Revolver. Different from pistol. Never say "smoking revolver.” 
Rodent. Say rat. 

Same. Not to be used for it. 

Sea of upturned faces. Worn threadbare. 

Section. Often misused for region. Section is a definite division. 

Select few. In line with selection. Trite. 

Selection. Another word that belongs to "those days.” Use piece or 
composition. 

Severed his connection with. Use quit. 

Sewer, sewage, sewerage. Sewer is the drain; sewage, the filth drained ; 
sewerage, the system of sewers. 

Shape. Never use for condition. 

Should. Use in the same way as shall. 

Show. Never say "he had a poor show” ; say chance. 

Sick. Do not write "The President is a sick man.” Obviously he is 
a man. 


APPENDIX A 


343 


Size up. Use estimate. 

So. Use in a negative comparison, not as. 

Social. Unnecessary to say social dance. 

Someone, somebody, etc. Take singular verbs. 

Staged. Used only when speaking of the theater. 

State. Discriminate carefully between state and say. State has the 
more specific meaning. 

Story. Use only when you mean story, not for article or item. 

Such. Not a pronoun except in the phrase "such as.” 

Suspicion. Not to be used as a verb. Say suspect. 

Sustain. Injuries are not sustained, but received. A bridge sustains a 
weight. 

Swell. A verb, not an adjective. 

Take stock in. Unless you mean stock in a corporation say rely on or 
believe. 

The present day and generation. Too many generations have used the 
phrase. 

There. Avoid the use of there at the beginning of a sentence. 

There was. Avoid this construction in beginning a paragraph. 

They say. Indefinite. Say "it is said,” or state your authority. 
Through, with get. Use finish. 

Time is passed, not spent. 

To. Should not be separated from the infinitive. 

Tonsorial artist. Say barber, but do not use the word as a title; as, 
"Barber John Smith.” Do not make titles. 

Totally destroyed. Redundant. 

Tot. Call a child a child, not a tot. 

Toward. Not towards. The same of backward, afterward, forward. 
Transpire. Means " to leak out ”; use take place. 

True facts. Are facts ever false ? 

Try and. You try to do something. 

Turned turtle. Say "turned over.” 

Two first. Say "first two.” 

Ugly. Incorrect when referring to dispositions ; say ill-tempered. 

Ult., inst., prox. Avoid these words. Say "last month,” "this month,” 
"next month.” 

Undercurrent of excitement. This term will cause no excitement or 
notice. It is trite. 

Underhanded. Say underhand. 

Uninterested. Quite different from disinterested. 

Up-to-date. Modern is more concise. 

Various. Not synonymous with different. 

Vast concourse. Has been used a vast number of times. 


344 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 


Very. Do not use more than once a week. To say that he is "a very 
good man” may mean that he is only passably good. 

Very occasionally. Occasionally means on occasion. Say infrequently. 
Via; per diem ; per week. Say "by way of”; "a day”; "a week.” 
Want. Say wish unless you mean real need. 

We. Not in good standing. Use the name of the paper. 

Weird. Only uncanny things are weird. 

Whence. Incorrect to use from preceding whence. Tautological. 
Whether. Used to introduce an indirect question, not if. 

Who are. Relative clauses may often be omitted, making the sentence 
firmer; as, "All citizens who are interested,” "all interested citizens.” 
Wholesome. To be used in speaking of food, not healthful. 

Will. Use in the first person to express determination, in the second and 
third persons to express simple futurity. 

Wire. Do not use for the noun telegram or the verb telegraph. 

With. Distinguish between with and by. 

Witness. Use see in informal usage. 

Worth of goods. Say "goods valued at- 

Would. Use in the same way as will. 

Write up. Say report. 

Xmas. Not to be used as a substitute for Christmas. 

Yesterday. Now used in most dailies instead of the days of the week. 
Should not be used to begin a paragraph unless time is the important 
feature. 


APPENDIX B 


NEWSPAPER STYLE SHEET 1 
General Instructions 

1. Use a typewriter and regulation copy paper for your news stories. 
Write on one side of the sheet only and triple space all copy to provide 
room for corrections and subheads. 

2. Put your name and title or "slug” of story in upper left-hand corner 
of first page and on each page thereafter put page number and "slug.” 

3. Begin your story about the middle of the first page. Indent each 
paragraph. If the story requires more than one page, write the word 
"more” at the bottom of each page and circle it. When the story is ended, 
indicate the conclusion thus: # 

4. Avoid choppy, disconnected, or involved sentences, long paragraphs, 
and paragraphs beginning with the same word or phrase. Avoid beginning 
a story with a paragraph of direct quotation standing alone. 

5. Beware of overloading the first sentence of a "lead” with unessen¬ 
tial details; if the lead sentence is too long and involved, split it up into 
two or three sentences. 

6. Avoid "fine” writing, triviality, and over-enthusiasm. Write a plain, 
simple story of what happened, using plain, simple words. Simplicity and 
brevity, not elaboration, give the newspaper its "punch.” Tell your story 
just once; do not repeat. 

7. Do not use overworked expressions or ideas; beware the "rubber 
stamp.” 

8. Do not place important features in the last paragraph, where they 
may be cut out. 

9. Read copy with a soft black lead pencil and write corrections, sub¬ 
heads, and changes legibly. Overscore your longhand "n’s” and underscore 
your "u’s.” If your corrections are so numerous as to result in illegible 
copy, rewrite it. 

10. Make accuracy, not speed, your watchword. If you do not know, 
look up the doubtful item; never guess. Consult the standard reference 

iThe accompanying style sheet, compiled by George C. Bastian, copy-reader on the 
Chicago Tribune, and Professor Frank B. Thayer of the Medill School of Journalism, is 
designed to promote uniformity in newspaper practice. Its adoption and use will in¬ 
sure standards and lend authority on moot points of capitalization, punctuation, copy¬ 
reading, and the like. 


345 


346 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 


works. Webster’s International Dictionary is the accepted authority on 
words and geographical and other names. Check proper names, initials, and 
addresses. Eliminate superlatives, rumors, and all statements that are 
absurd, trivial, ill-advised, anonymous, or libelous. Eliminate needless 
trouble-makers. Protect the paper that employs you. 

n. The truth interestingly presented is the only news story that is worth 
while, and no effort to obtain it is too great. Faking is a newspaper crime. 
Be vigorous without being editorial; be interesting, but not sensational; 
be fearless, but fair. Never sacrifice solid information for brilliance. 

12. Never "play up” a statement which, taken from its accompanying 
text, may be misleading and place its author in a false light. 

13. When reading copy on a story, improve and polish it; do not muti¬ 
late it. Be alert and sympathetic, not "wooden.” Retain the spirit, the 
personality, and as far as possible the words of the writer. Do not insist 
that each story shall be like the other in form. A newspaper is the meeting 
place of many minds. 

14. Read and study all the newspapers you can obtain; study headlines, 
text, pictures, editorials, type, every detail. Keep yourself informed on 
current events. Read all the good books you can get. They help you to 
uphold the standards of good English. 


Capitalize: 


Capitalization 


1. All proper nouns, months, days of the week, but not the seasons. 

2. Principal words in the titles of books, plays, and lectures, including 
the initial "A” or "The”: "The Crisis.” 

3. Titles denoting official position, rank, or occupation when they pre¬ 
cede a proper noun: President Coolidge, Judge K. M. Landis. 

4. All the name of any company, corporation, stock, mine, mill, church, 
club, society, road, bank, university, school, or college except the word de¬ 
noting the form of the organization where it occurs at the end; where the 
word denoting the form of the organization occurs in any part of the title 
except the end, capitalize: Northwestern university, University of Wiscon¬ 
sin, Corn Exchange National bank, Fourth Presbyterian church, New York 
Central lines, Association of Collegiate Alumnae. 

5. Proper nouns and geographical names except where the common 
noun precedes: Chicago river, Green lake; but Lake Geneva, Gulf of 
Mexico. 

6. Only the distinguishing parts of streets, hotels, theaters, stations, 
wards, districts, counties : La Salle street, Union station, Fort Dearborn 
hotel, Tenth ward. 

7. Names of religious denominations and nouns and pronouns of 
the Deity. 

8. Political parties. 


APPENDIX B 


347 


9. Sections of the country: the South, the Middle West. 

10. Abbreviations of college degrees : B.A., J.D., LL.D., Ph.D. 

n. Distinguishing names of holidays: Fourth of July, New Year’s day. 

12. Names of races and nationalities: Indians, Japanese. 

Do not capitalize: 

1. Names of national, state and city bodies, boards, etc. : assembly, leg¬ 
islature, senate, department of agriculture, railroad commission, finance 
committee, post office, city hall, capitol. 

2. Points of the compass : east, northeast. 

3. Names of national legislative bodies: congress, parliament. 

4. Common religious terms: scripture, gospels, heathen. 

5. Names of school or college studies, except names of languages: 
botany, French. 

6. Scientific names of plants, animals, and birds. 

7. Titles when they follow the name : George Payne, professor of Latin. 

8. Names of college classes: freshman, senior. 

9. College degrees when spelled out: bachelor of arts. 

10. Titles in lists of officers: The new officers are: president, Samuel 
Insull, etc. 

11. Certain common nouns that were originally proper nouns: prussian 
blue, india rubber, plaster of paris. 

Punctuation 

1. Omit period after "per cent” and after nicknames. 

2. Use a comma before "and” in a list: red, white, and blue. 

3. Punctuate lists of names with cities or states thus : Richard Thomas, 
Peoria; R. J. DeViney, Madison. 

4. Use a colon after a statement introducing a direct quotation of one 
or more paragraphs. 

5. Do not use a comma between a man’s name and Jr. and Sr. 

6. Use the apostrophe to mark an omission: I’ve, can’t, don’t, ’95. 

7. Use the apostrophe for possessive except in pronouns: the boy’s 
clothes, Burns’ poems; but its, ours, yours. 

8. Use no apostrophe in such abbreviations as varsity, phone, bus. 

9. Use the apostrophe in making plurals of letters, but not plurals of 
figures: early ’90s, four A’s. 

10. In cases where you refer to more than one member of the Jones 
family write Joneses instead of Jones’. 

11. Punctuate votes in balloting thus: yeas, 5; nays, 7. 

12. Use the dash after a man’s name, placed at the beginning of an in¬ 
terview: Arthur Church—I have no statement to make. (Use no quota¬ 
tion marks for this form.) 


348 ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 

13. Use dash after Q. and A. in verbatim testimony: Q.—Where were 
you born? A.—In Chicago. 

14. Use no commas in "5 feet n inches tall”; "7 hours 35 minutes 13 
seconds.” 

15. In sport news punctuate thus: Northwestern 28, Purdue o. 

Quote: Quotation 

1. All verbatim quotations when they are to be set in the same type and 
measure as the context, but not when they are in narrower measure or 
smaller type. 

2. A quotation within a quotation requires single quotation marks; a 
third quotation reverts to double quotation marks. 

3. All direct testimony, conversation, and interviews given in direct 
form, except when the name of speaker, or Q. and A., with a dash, pre¬ 
cedes, as: Howard Kingsbury—I have nothing to say; Q. ; —What is your 
name? A.—Peter Chambers. 

4. Names of books, dramas, paintings, operas, songs, subjects of lec¬ 
tures, sermons, magazine articles, including the initial "A” or "The.” 

5. Use quotation marks at the beginning of each paragraph of a con¬ 
tinuous quotation of several paragraphs, but at the end of the last para¬ 
graph only. 

Do not quote: 

1. Names of characters in plays: Peter Grimm, in "The Return of 
Peter Grimm.” 

2. Types of musical composition : overture, concerto, intermezzo. 

3. Names of newspapers or periodicals: Chicago Tribune. 

4. Names of vessels, animals, and sleeping cars. 


Use figures for: 


Figures 


1. Numbers of 100 or over, except in the case of round numbers : a 
hundred books. 

2. Hours of the day: 9 p. m.; 1:30 o’clock this afternoon. 

3. Days of the month, omit d, th, st.: September 29, 1921; Decem¬ 
ber 12. 

4. Ages : he was 10 years old ; but fouryear old James, without hyphens. 

5. All dimensions, prices, degrees of temperature, dates, times in races, 
scores, votes, per cents, etc.: 90 degrees; 75 per cent. 

6. All sums of money when used with a dollar mark : $48, $3.09. 

7. Street and room numbers: 1846 Jackson boulevard; room 43, Fisk 
hall. 


APPENDIX B 


349 


8. In statistical matter never use ditto marks. 

9. Never start a sentence with figures and try to avoid starting a head¬ 
line with figures. 


Abbreviate: 


Abbreviations 


1. The following titles when they precede a name : Dr., Mr., Mrs., 
Mme., Mile., Prof., the Rev., and military titles except chaplain. 

2. Names of states only when they follow the names of cities: Min¬ 
neapolis, Minn.; but never "a citizen of Okla.” 

3. Names of months that contain more than five letters, but only in 
dates and date lines: Sept. 18. 


Do not abbreviate: 

1. Railway, corporation, avenue, street, or district: Nickel Plate rail¬ 
road ; Sprague, Warner & company. 

2. Christian names : Robert, Charles, Thomas, Alexander. 

3. The titles senator, congressman, representative, president, secretary, 
treasurer, etc. 

4. Christmas in the form Xmas. 

5. Per cent: 20 per cent (not 20%). 

6. Cents : 35 cents (not 35 cts. or 35 c.). 


Titles 

1. Always give initials or first names of persons the first time they ap¬ 
pear. Use both initials or first name. Never say Mr. Howard Potter, or 
Mr. H. Potter; make it Mr. Potter or Howard Potter. 

2. Give first name of unmarried women, not initials only: Miss Mary 
Garden (not Miss M. Garden). 

3. Use "the” before Reverend. 

4. Avoid the use of long and awkward titles before a proper name: 
Superintendent of Street Cleaning Smith. 

5. Never say Mrs. Doctor or Mrs. Professor. 






INDEX 


Abbott story, showing growth of news, 
22 

Abbreviations in head-writing, 258 
Adams, Samuel, 3 

Advertising, 315; classified, 316; in 
community newspaper, 330; con¬ 
trasted with news, 26; value of, 315 
Advice to reporters, 241 
American journalism, beginning of, 1 
American Society of Newspaper Ed¬ 
itors, code of ethics of, 10 
Analysis of news story, 25 
"Anna Christie,” review of, 286 
Animal story, example of, 179 
Art criticism, 291; forms of, 291 
Associated Press, function and organ¬ 
ization of, 84; stories from, 33, 48, 
208 

Atwood, M. V., "The Country Editor’s 
Creed,” 333 

Baseball story, example of, 176 
Beats, how covered, 66 
Beecher, Henry Ward, quotation 
from, 2 

Bennett, James Gordon, Sr., 3, 7 
Bible, model for news writing, 29, 39 
Boston Evening Transcript , 72 
Boston News-Letter , first American 
newspaper, 1, 2 
Boston Traveler , 256 
Bowles, Samuel, 3 

Brevities, definition of, 145; good ex¬ 
amples of, 146; personal appeal in, 
I4S 

Burglar story, 24 
Business, house organ, 19 
Business staff of newspaper, 14 

Cable copy, original and edited, 221 
Cable and telegraph editor, duties of, 
220 

"Canons of Journalism,” 10 
Cartoons, use of, 71 
Cartridge lead, example of, 105 
Censorship of news, 8 
Cheltenham type series, 313 
Chicago Daily News, 33, 45, 107, 277 


Chicago Evening Post, 75, 80, 166, 286 
Chicago Herald and Examiner, 283 
Chicago Tribune, 48, 65, 75, 154, 160, 
163, 179, 183, 199, 226-228, 270 
Childs, George W., 3 
Christian Science Monitor, 261, 279 
Circulation, 317; three tests of, 319; 
within city, 318 

Circulation manager, duties of, 317 
City editor, duties of, 14, 71; function 
of, 248; qualifications of, 65 
City News Bureau of Chicago, func¬ 
tion of, 71 

Class and trade publications, 17; defi¬ 
nition of, 17; qualifications neces¬ 
sary to serve, 19 
Cleveland Press, story from, 36 
Cobb County Times, example of coun¬ 
try newspaper, 325 

Combined New York newspapers, 260 
Community newspaper, advertising in, 
330; how to make attractive, 323; 
circulation of, 331; contrasted with 
city paper, 320; editor of, 321; edi¬ 
torial policy of, 333; equipment for, 
323; examples of, 325, 329; feature 
material for, 329; field for, 322; in¬ 
fluence of, 320; profits in, 332; 
qualities necessary for success of, 
321; recording agricultural interests 
in, 327; writing news for, 327 
Conventions, how to cover, 155; ex¬ 
ample of story of, 156 
Converting news into type, 293 
Copy, marks used in editing, 294; 
piece of edited, 295; route of a piece 
of, 297; technical terms for, 296 
Copy-readers, work of, 246 
Correspondents, instructions for out- 
of-town, 224 
Coue story, 40 
Country editor’s creed, 333 
Country Gentleman, farm journal, 18 
Court stories, how to cover, 165; ex¬ 
amples of, 160, 166 

Criticism, art, 291; attitude in, 292; 
defined, 281; dramatic, 284; example 
of dramatic, 286; framing the, 285; 


352 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 


function of, 282; literary, 290; musi¬ 
cal, 289; qualities of, 284 
Criticizing plays and books, 281 
Cross line, example of, 253 
Cuts, keeping of, 73; making of, 312 

Dana, Charles A., 3, 9; code of ethics 
for reporters, 242; quotation from, 
32 

Dash, example of, 253 
"Day of Clean Journalism, The,” an 
editorial, 279 

Death notices, how to handle, 148 
Deck, example of, 253 
Descriptive lead, example of, 107 
"Detective Journalism,” example of, 
167 

Detroit News, home of, 317; library 
of, 75; references to, 74, 182, 247, 

271,303,311 

Display lines, example of, 253 
Doyle, Arthur Conan, interview with, 
207 

Drama, criticism of, 284 
Dullness a newspaper crime, 32 

Editor, definition of, 220; of special 
departments, 14 
Editor in chief, duties of, 13 
Editorial council, duties of, 13 
Editorial expressions, 31 
Editorial paragraphs defined, 266 
Editorials, aim of, 265; analysis of, 
267; changing attitudes on, 263; 
classification of, 269; examples of, 
270; "leader,” 266; page, 265; poli¬ 
cies, 264; threefold division of, 266 
Ellsworth, William Webster, speech 
story, 154 

Emporia (Kansas), Gazette, 281, 321 
Engineering News-Record, technical 
paper, 18 

English of newspapers (practice assign¬ 
ments), 211 

Erie Railway Magazine, employees’ 
magazine, 19 
Evans, Arthur, 48, 199 
Exhibitions, example of story of, 157; 
writing story of, 157 

Facts, making them live, 190 
Farm journals, analysis of, 18 
Faulty newspaper diction (practice as¬ 
signments), 55 

Feature articles, example of populariz¬ 
ing abstract facts for, 187; general, 
186; length of, 189; for magazine 


section of newspapers, 188; making 
the facts live in, 190; news, 185; 
popularizing abstract facts for, 186; 
sample, 190; suggestions for (practice 
assignments), 216; treatment and 
style, 189 

"Fertile Kansas,” an editorial, 277 
Financial editor, duties of, 229 
Fire story, how a big story is handled, 
75; how the Chicago Evening Post 
(afternoon paper) covered it, 80; 
how the Chicago Tribune (morning 
paper) covered it, 75; examples of, 
36, 162; getting staff into action 
for, 75 

Football story, example of, 175 
"Fort Dearborn Banks Merge,” story, 
45 

Frank Graham, story by, 176 
Franklin, Benjamin, 2, 6 
Freak lead, example of, 107 
Fudging the news, 310 

General features, definition of, 186; 
for magazine section of newspapers, 
188 

" Gloomy run,” definition of, 148 
Good Housekeeping, woman’s maga¬ 
zine, 18 

Grady, Henry W., 3 
Grain-market editor, duties of, 230 
Greeley, Horace, 3, 8 
Grouping of head materials (practice 
assignments), 213 

Half tones, making of, 312 
Halstead, Field Marshal, 3 
Hamilton, Alexander, 3 
Harney, William Wallace, poem by, 31 
Headline, counting in, 253; emphasiz¬ 
ing feature in, 256; half-diamond, 
example of, 255 ; importance in make¬ 
up, 259; mission of, 252; parts of, 
254; relation to circulation, 261; 
rules for building, 258; sample, 253; 
tendencies in, 257; test of, 260; 
three-part step-down, example of, 
255 . 

Headlines and policies, 252 
Hearst, William Randolph, 4 
Heinz house organ, The 57 News, 19 
"Henry Peck, his Club,” an editorial, 
271 

Hoe, R., and Company presses, 309 
Hoe, Richard, inventor of revolving 
press, s 

Hopwood, Erie C., quotation from, 237 


INDEX 


353 


House organs, editing of, 19; list of, 

19 

Human-interest stories, 178; animal 
story, 179; example of, 182; hu¬ 
morous, 184 

Illustrations, in country paper, 329; 
making of, 312 

Important editorial desks, 220 
"It’s the Way it is Written,” quota¬ 
tion from, 33 

International News Service, organiza¬ 
tion and function of, 87 
Interpreting the news, 263 
Intertype, operation of, 306 
Inverted leads (practice assignments), 

115 

Inverted pyramid, example of, 253 
Interview, 201; Arthur Conan Doyle, 
207; blind, 206; difficulty of, 201; 
knowing subject of, 203; methods 
of approach in, 204; securing audi¬ 
ence for, 202 

Iron Age, technical paper, 18 

Journalism, history of, 1 

Kansas City Star, 166, 179 

Kansas City Times, 156 

Kehler, John Howard, quotation from, 

32 

Kossuth County Advance, country 
paper, 329 

Ladies’ Home Journal, woman’s maga¬ 
zine, 18 

Lead, cartridge, 105; descriptive, 107; 
five W’s in, 100; freak, 107; group¬ 
ing material for (practice assign¬ 
ments), 213; importance of, 99; 
new, hi; one-two-three, no; parti¬ 
cipial and infinitive, 104; policy, 109; 
purpose of, 99; question, 104; quota¬ 
tion, 105; second-day, in; sport, 
173; suicide, 103; suiting, to story, 
104; suspended-interest, 106 
Lee, Robert M., quotation from, 65 
"Les Jeunes,” an editorial, 272 
Libel, case of, 90; three defenses 
against, 90 

Linotype, operation of, 304; photo¬ 
graph of, 305 

"Liquor, Jazz and the Indian,” an 
editorial, 272 
Literary criticism, 290 
"Literature, Robust and Ornate,” an 
editorial, 273 


Local field in news-gathering, 64 
London Times, 309 
Ludlow, operation of, 308 

MacCullough, Joseph B., 3 
Madison County Democrat (London, 
Ohio), country paper, 329 
Magazine field, opportunities in, 20 
Make-up, importance of, 259 
Making the small-town paper personal 
(practice assignments), 212 
Mallon, George, 245 
Managing editor, duties of, 14 
Market and financial editor, duties of, 
229 

Marks used in editing copy, 294 
Matrices and space bands (photo¬ 
graph), 306 

Matrix, example of, 302 
Mechanical department of newspaper, 
293 

Medill, Joseph, 3, 14 
Medill School of Journalism of North¬ 
western University, 33, 153, 155, 267 
Memory, value of, to musical critics, 
290 

Memphis Commercial Appeal, 272 
Monotype, 307; casting machine, 309; 
keyboard of, 308 

"Morals of History,” an editorial, 278 
Morgue, of Detroit News , 74; purpose 
of, 73 

Musical criticism, essentials of, 288 

N. E. A. Service, Inc., function and or¬ 
ganization of, 88; photographs of 
service, 89 

Nelson, William Rockhill, 4, 15 
Nevada (Iowa) Evening Journal, 
country newspaper, 329 
New lead, 111 

New York Evening Post, 273, 274 
New York Globe, 162, 278 
New York Herald, 243 
New York Sun, 11, 32, 242 
New York Times, 23, 245, 243, 253, 
264 

New York Tribune (frontispiece), 157 
New York World, 235 
News, and advertising, 26; contacts, 
64; cultivated, 21; definition of, 21; 
growth of, 22; interest, 21; keeping 
tab on, 65; kinds of, 27; native, 21; 
policy, 7; and the press agent, 26; as 
a quality, 23; treatment of, 27 
News features, definition and example 
of, 185; illustration of, 185 


354 


ESSENTIALS IN JOURNALISM 


News-gathering, evolution in, 5 
News story, 67; covering assigned, 70; 
elements of, 30; first commandment 
in writing, 98; good examples of, 
40; plotting the curve of, 98 
News style, how to acquire, 39 
News technique, 97 

News and feature services, functions 
of, 83 

Newspaper, comparison of, 4; dynamic 
personal forces in, 3 ; evolution of, 5; 
number of, in United States, 2 ; op¬ 
portunities in, 13; as reflector of 
public tastes, 9; revenue from, in 
United States, 3 
Newspaper "art,” 312 
Newspaper office in action, 249 
Newspaper’s creed in stone, a, 247 
Northfield News, country newspaper, 

324 

Obituary story, 148; how to gather 
facts for, 149; practice assignment, 
214; well-handled example of, 150 
Ochs, Adolph S., 19; quotation from, 
on the twenty-fifth anniversary of 
the New York Times , 9 
Office practice in news writing, 40 
Omaha Bee, 320 
One-two-three lead, no 
Opportunities in newspaper office, 16 
"Our School Problems,” an editorial, 
270 

Owatonna (Minnesota), Journal- 
Chronicle, country paper, 329 

Painting, criticism of, 291 
Paragraph, length of, in news story, 
38 

Participial lead, example of, 104 
Patterson, John H., obituary story, 

150 

Penny newspaper, first, in United 
States, 11 
Personals, 145 
Piece of edited copy, 295 
Point, definition of, 313; measurement 

of, 313 

Police department, organization of, 159 
Police stories, 159; based on police 
bulletin, 160; example of, 160; how 
to get information for, 161 
Policy lead, example of, 109 
Policy of newspaper in standards, 7 
Practice assignments, faulty newspaper 
diction, 55; inverted leads, 115; 
problems in news-gathering, 94; re¬ 


ports based on comparative study of 
newspapers, 210; skeletons of news 
stories, 130 

Prentice, George D., 3 
Press agent, 26 

Press associations, list of, 84-88 
Pressroom of the Detroit News, 311 
Printing newspapers, evolution in, 5 
Printing presses, 309; speed of, 309 
Problems in news-gathering (practice 
assignments), 94 

Proofreading, 299; marks used in, 301; 
methods of, 299 

Publicity and publicity agents, 250 
Pulitzer, Joseph, 4, 18 

Question lead, example of, 104 
Quotation lead, example of, 105 

Railway Age, technical magazine, 18 
Real-estate editor, duties of, 229 
Reporter, advice to, 241; as artist in 
news, 233; on assignment, 70; on 
beat, 66; code of ethics for, 242; 
definition of, 220, 233; duties of, 27; 
education of, 235; essentials for, 28; 
instructions to, 92; need for good, 
237; qualifications for, 233; real and 
false, 231; story of Russell Sage, 
234; and his work, 231; at work, 
234 

Reporting, by telephone, 246; ques¬ 
tionable practices in, 243; honor in 
(quotation from Henry Watterson), 
245; respecting confidence, 244 
Reports based on comparative study of 
newspapers (practice assignments), 
210 

Reproducing pages of newspaper, 300 
Review, example of, 286; framing the, 
285; qualities of, 284 
Rewrite and follow-up stories (prac¬ 
tice assignments), 215 
Rewrite men and copy-readers, 246 
Rewriting stories, how done, 113 
Robbery story, how to cover, 68; how 
to write, 69 

Route of a piece of copy, 297 
Rubber stamp, how to avoid, 33 
Running story, definition of, 113; han¬ 
dling of, 296 

Sage, Russell, 234 
Salaries in newspaper office, 15 
Scandal stories, handling, 7 
Sculpture, criticism of, 291 
Science, popularizing, 187 


INDEX 355 


Second-day lead, hi 
Sentences, arrangement in news stories, 
35 ; illustration of, 36 
Simpson, Kirke L., 55 
Situation story, 198; example of, 199; 

premise and conclusion for, 198 
Skeletons of news stories (practice as¬ 
signments), 130 

Slosson, Edwin E., article on science, 
187 

Smith, Henry J., quotation from, 33 
Society editor, duties of, 230 
Speeches, examples of, 153, 154; find¬ 
ing the feature of, 152; getting into 
print, 151; how to handle, 151 
Sporting editor, duties of, 228 
Sport lead, examples of, 173; how to 
write, 173 

Sport stories, 169; afternoon and morn¬ 
ing, 170; college football, 171, 175; 
example of, 172; news points to be 
covered, 171; popularity of, 169; 
specimens of, 175; various kinds of, 
174 

"Stab,” a poem, 31 
Standards of newspapers, 6 
State editors, duties of, 223 
Stereotyping, example of, 302; method 
of, 300; room of Detroit News, 303 
Stevens, Ashton, quotation from, 283 
Stone, George P., 45 
Stored-up information, 73 
Strike of pressmen in New York, 260 
Style in newspaper offices, 40 
Sudden occurrences in news (practice 
assignments), 212 

Suicide story, how to cover, 165; ex¬ 
ample of, 164; lead for, 103; how to 
treat, 164 

Sunday edition, material of, 227 
Sunday editor, duties of, 225 
Suspended-interest lead, example of, 
106 

Syndicates, function of, 250 

Takes, definition of, 296 
Technique of telling the news, 97 


Telegraph editor, duties of, 220; state, 
223; at work, 223 

Telegraph news, organization of, 223; 
scope of, 221; what not to send as, 
224 

Telling the news (practice assign¬ 
ments), 211 

"To an Anxious Friend,” an editorial, 
281 

Type, display and body, 313 ; for news¬ 
papers and newspaper advertising, 
3i4 

Type faces and type display, 313 
Types of appeal (practice assignments), 
214 

Typesetting machinery, 304; intertype, 
306; linotype, 304; Ludlow, 308; 
monotype, 307 

United Press, function and organiza¬ 
tion of, 85 

Units, definition of, 253 

W’s, five, in lead, 100 
Washington correspondents, 249 
Washington Farmer, farm journal, 18 
Watterson, Henry, 4, 16; quotation on 
newspaper ethics, 245 
"Weeks and Days,” an editorial, 274 
White, William Allen, winner of 
Pulitzer prize editorial (1922), 281 
"Who Buys Your Home-Town Paper 
on the Streets of New York,” by 
Bruce Barton, 190 

Wire story (practice assignments), 215 
Women’s department in newspapers, 
231 

Woman’s Home Companion, woman’s 
magazine, 18 

Women, number of, employed on news¬ 
papers, 15 

Women’s magazines, analysis of, 18 
Words, importance of, in news writ¬ 
ing, 30 

Writers, suggestions to, 114 
Zenger, Paul Peter, trial of, 1 




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